Back in San Francisco
by hamgsrship
Summary: This story is written to be humorous as it picks up where "Beginning in San Francisco" ended as Grissom go their separate ways then reuniting as Sara faces the biggest challenge of her life. This story is very OOC and AU.  And hormonal!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story picks up where "Beginning in San Francisco" ended, heading into an AU that finds Sara facing the biggest challenge of her life. GSR as always.

Chapter 1

TWO WEEKS AFTER GRISSOM'S DEPARTURE:

Sara,

It's been an eventful two weeks. I'm hoping things are well with you. I'm sure you're so busy solving cases that you've barely had time to think of me. I have, also, been quite busy. There was a tough case that needed me to call in an old friend. I don't know if I ever mentioned her to you. Her name is Terri Miller and she's amazing in her field. It took over a week, but with her help, we plowed through. Catherine, Nick and Warrick were glad to have me back to share in the work load. Jim was glad to have me back so he didn't have to listen to Catherine, Nick and Warrick complain about the work load anymore. And although I am also extremely happy to be back to the grindstone, I often think of you and our time together at the bay. Your aptitude and ability intrigued me as no one has in a long time. You are going to shine, Sara. I hope someday to see just how much. Please keep in touch.

Your friend,

Grissom

He was going to keep in touch, and although it was remote, it was enough to keep her going for now. She got up from her desk and went back to the bathroom to look at the stick that was waiting.

Grissom,

I'm glad things are going well for you. So well that you had to call in your old friend, Ms. Terri Miller. Well, I hope she helped you and now she's gone. I've heard more than enough about her the last time we spoke! I certainly don't need to hear more about some woman who. . .(Okay—Stop this and go back to the beginning. I can't send this to him. Start again.)

Grissom,

I'm so glad things are going well for you. I have been busy these past two weeks but I certainly think of you often. You can say you left a little bit of your essence behind in San Francisco. Terri sounds fantastic—a real firecracker! I'm sure the others were glad to have you back, after all, where would they be without their leading entomologist? As far as my ability to learn—I must say I had an excellent teacher and you've taught me quite a lot, too much to go into in a simple email. I'll gladly respond to any messages you send. It's always wonderful to hear from you.

Wishing you well,

Sara

FOUR WEEKS AFTER GRISSOM'S DEPARTURE:

Sara,

I know it's been a few weeks, but we really aren't getting a break around here. I imagine I'm but a fading memory by now. I hope you are feeling well. Know that I'll keep trying to correspond, even if I am dragging myself home in the mornings and crawling back out of bed at night. I mustn't complain too much. I'm actually thriving. I sometimes wonder if I'd be able to survive without so much going on around me.

Talk to you again,

Grissom

Grissom,

Yes, it's been a couple of weeks. A fading memory? How about a growing seed? And feeling well? My boobs hurt! I pee so much I'm thinking of buying stock in Charmin Toilet Paper! And dragging yourself home in the morning and crawling back out of bed at night? Perhaps you should have thought about whose bed you were crawling into last month! And I'm just soooo happy to hear that you're thriving while I'm going to work feeling as if I could just drop and go back to bed for twelve hours! (Oops. Rewrite!)

Grissom,

Sorry to hear you are so busy. You are not a fading memory. Your presence is felt to remind me that you were here. I'm so sorry that you're so tired. Maybe a little more rest and a little less murder and mayhem would do the trick? But I understand your inability to sit still. I'm sure work is actually doing you well. I am finding work to be a blessing when I'm sitting home alone without much to do.

I'll be here,

Sara

SEVEN WEEKS AFTER GRISSOM'S DEPARTURE:

Sara,

I'm just sitting down between breaths. Work has been all consuming and we have been lucky enough to have had the assistance of Terri Miller again for the past several weeks. As I've told you before, she's incredibly bright. I'm sure you'd like her. I got word of the serial that's happening in your area and often wonder if you're working on the case. If so, I'm sure you'll be wrapping it up soon. I have no doubts about your ability. Catherine and Warrick have worked a case similar it here. It took them nearly three weeks but they finally put enough pieces of the puzzle together to apprehend this guy two days ago. And, while they've been completely eaten up with that case, Nick has been on vacation all week, so I've had more than my fair share of double-shifts. I'm looking forward to this weekend. I plan to have dinner with Terri at Le Palais D'or. It will be the first time we actually get to sit down to eat a meal together. I must go, my name seems to be a popular one right now. It's times like this that I wish I had never left the bay. Hearing you say my name never irritated me as it does hearing it being called by several CSIs at once.

Be well,

Grissom

Sara hadn't mentioned to Grissom that she had been off work for the past week and a half. Vomiting had become her constant companion. If it were regular like clockwork, she might have been able to work around it, but there was no rhyme or reason to it as she would smell something that had previously made her mouth water with yearning but would now send her running to the nearest facility to empty her stomach. Sometimes it didn't even take a smell. Riding in cars with other drivers was an absolute no-no. And often, when she was driving herself, she would have to pull over and throw up. But, he had more important things to be concerned about, such as his dinner he had planned with (from Grissom's description) the goddess, Terri Miller. Sara looked at the email and didn't know if she wanted to wipe at the tears about to fall, or wipe at her mouth, in an attempt to curb her nervous nausea. As a single tear slipped onto her cheek, the decision was made for her.

Grissom,

I followed your example and took a break this weekend, too. I went to Robert's Ragazzo Grande. . .(Sara thought about the wisdom of this. If she knew Grissom, then she figured he knew Italian and if he didn't, he'd look it up, so telling him that she went to Bob's Big Boy wasn't going to work. She erased the Roberts Ragazzo Grande.)

I went to. . .(she had to think a moment on this one). . .a very fine restaurant with one of my coworkers. I don't think you met him. His name was . . .Pat Garrett. (Sara looked at her computer. No—she just knew Grissom had to be a history-buff and the sheriff who killed Billy the Kid was out of the question.)

I don't think you met him. His name was. . .Jesse. . .Cassidy (Ah! She thought, rather proud of herself—she'd combine Jesse James and Butch Cassidy—he wouldn't catch that one!)

We had a very nice time. We had . . . chicken cordon bleu and . . .(her stomach heaved just thinking about it and her mind went into super-drive trying to think of something that wouldn't make her want to spew her dinner all over her laptop. What was it she had for dinner? Oh, the only thing that she could keep down, lately. Rice Crispie Treats!)

. . .chicken cordon bleu and . . .rice crispie treats? (That won't work! She'd just skip what they ate.)

We had a very nice time. Jesse is a detective with . . . Homicide. . .(that's it—homicide will work) and he's very knowledgeable in. . .um. . .dammit! (Okay, can't think straight—I have to vomit! No, I'm okay. Just rewind a bit.)

Jesse is a detective with SFPD. We went. . .dancing afterwards. (No! I "do" have to vomit!)

Sara went to the bathroom and returned nearly an hour later where she went back to her email and cleaned it up as best as possible.

Grissom,

I followed your example and took a break this weekend, too. I went to a very fine restaurant with one of my coworkers. I don't think you met him. His name was Jesse Cassidy. We had a very nice time. Jesse is a detective with SFPD. I'm sorry to cut this short, but my phone is ringing and I'm expecting a call from Jesse.

Lots of luck with your endeavors,

Sara

NINE WEEKS AFTER GRISSOM'S DEPARTURE:

Sara,

I'm glad you're moving on with your life. Jesse is a very lucky man to have captured your attention. I, on the other hand, didn't fare out so well with my dinner. It seems the lab had other plans and at the last minute and I had to cancel. I didn't see Terri again as she had flown to Reno two days later to work a case there. I'm hoping she can come back and we can try again. I heard they caught the serial and I couldn't help but feel you had a big part in it. We are fully staffed here again, thankfully, but it gives me a lot of time to spend on my own. Some days I'm finding myself remembering a night filled with flying crabs. Have you and your detective friend gone to that crab shack you took me to? I wonder if that elderly couple still frequents the spot. They may fear for their lives now and go for lobster instead. I'm glad you're doing well and keeping busy. Try not to work too much, you need a break from time to time.

As always,

Grissom

Hmph! Sara thought as she looked at the screen. So, the dragon lady—oops—she means young lady—was transferred to Reno. Still, she couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if she had stayed to have that dinner with Grissom.

Grissom,

Sometimes life interferes in the most unusual ways—like being forbidden to return to your job because you're at home connected to a damned IV pole that some strange nurse comes in to change every twelve hours because you can't keep a thing in your frickin' stomach except rice crispie treats! And if you want to know the damned truth! I'm glad the bitch went to Reno! I hope she dries up like an old prune there and blows away! But no, I bet she's not lying around with permanent bed-head because she can't get up and wash her hair every time she throws up in it! No! Ms. Terri Miller probably goes to the salon every—frickin—day—and not only gets her hair done—but gets a damned pedicure too! I'll tell ya what I'd like to do with her damned toes, right now! And you think I should take a break? Not work too much? As if. LOL Yeah! Go ahead and laugh you rotten son-of-a. . .You just laugh your damned head off as you're sitting with your high-class-tramp in your high-class-restaurant eating your high-class-food while I'm laying here knocked up with "your high-class-kid chomping on high-class-frickin-rice-crispie-treats!" (Oops, again. Better try rewriting.)

Grissom,

I'm sorry your date didn't pan out for you. I'm sure Ms. Miller will return soon and you can have your dinner together. My life is, thankfully, rather routine right now. I'm spending my time with someone new. I'm sure you'd like it (oops—take that out and replace "it" with ? him?)

I'm sure you'd like him. We eat together whenever we can and spend time with one another even more often than that. I'm also socializing more. It isn't uncommon at all for me to have visitors at least twice a day. But I also spend a good portion of my time resting, so don't think for a moment that I'm over-working.

Keep in touch,

Sara

TEN WEEKS AFTER GRISSSOM'S DEPARTURE:

Sara,

Just a quick note to let you know I'm still here. I'm on my way out to a triple homicide.

Your mentor,

Grissom.

Grissom,

I'm still here too—on the couch—watching Barney! If I hear "I love you—you love me, we're a happy family. . ." one more time I'm going to smash the screen! But I watch it because Wishbone is on after that. He's a little Jack Russell. I want a Jack Russell. But do you know what I want even more than that? TO GET OUT OF BED! Or in this case—off the frickin' couch! Do you know that woman on PBS? She only comes on when they're trying to get donations. Anyway—if you stare at her long enough, she looks like Lon Chaney Junior in Abbott and Costello Meets Frankenstein? And if I stare at my stomach long enough it looks like an ANT HILL THAT'S GONNA TURN INTO A MOUNTAIN SOON! (Okay, can't send that. How about this?)

Grissom,

Good luck on your triple homicide. Be careful and get your man—or whatever. I know you will. Were there bugs involved?

Your mentee,

Sara

FOURTEEN WEEKS AFTER GRISSOM'S DEPARTURE:

Sara,

I know I haven't emailed in a while, but although I've been very busy, I've thought of you often. I told Terri about you while we were having dinner together last weekend. Oh, I forgot to tell you, she's been working on a case down here for the past two weeks and we've managed to take in dinner twice. Terri says you sound absolutely adorable. Seeing as I doubted you'd like to be labeled adorable, I explained that you're intelligence was above and beyond all others during my trip to San Francisco almost four months ago. How are things going with Jesse? Or has this new man in your life taken over your affections? I don't believe you gave me his name. He must be quite the man to have captured you as he evidently has. Well, as usual, I must be going. Terri is working on a bust of a young girl that I'm anxious to see.

Be safe,

Grissom

Grissom,

It's always such a pleasure to hear that you're still with that witch! I'd love to see a good picture of her besides all the ones she posed for that I've googled! Can she get her hair pulled back any tighter? Or is that her version of a face lift? And it's so damned wonderful to hear that I'm the topic of your dinner conversation. I wonder—do you talk about me while you're in bed with her too? And just what's wrong with me being called adorable? Thanks a frickin' lot! Yeah, go ahead and tell her how smart I am! So smart that I let you get me pregnant! Then run home to her! That was a pure genius—wasn't it! Oh? You gotta go? Can't keep Terri waiting—now can we? (Rewrite.)

Grissom,

As always, it's good to hear from you. You must have been extraordinarily busy this past month but it's good to hear that you've had Terri to help pass your time. She must be a very lovely lady. So, tell me, are there wedding bells in your future?

As always,

Sara

EIGHTEEN WEEKS AFTER GRISSOM'S DEPARTURE:

Sara,

You must be forgetting about me. I know I don't have the opportunity to sit down and email as often as I would like, but please feel free to send any messages to me. I always look forward to hearing your replies. How is work going for you? I heard about the man who killed his wife, girlfriend and their children—six in all, I believe—then killed himself. Were you part of this investigation? I've been getting extremely hungry for crab lately, and somehow the taste in Vegas doesn't compare to that little crab shack at the bay. What about you? Is Jesse—or, again, I don't believe you told me your other friend's name—keeping you busy? I know you said you were socializing a great deal a few weeks ago. Are you still the social butterfly? I hope you're making time to remember me and our short time together. You were a wonderful friend to me when I was alone and needed such a friend. Please, feel free to keep in touch more often.

Your friend,

Grissom

Grissom,

Forgetting about you? Yeah—every time this child kicks me under the ribs, I think—gee, I wonder who could have snuck into my room one night five months ago and done this to me? I don't think I'm forgetting about you! Especially now that I've got this ultrasound picture hanging on my refrigerator to remind me that, even though I'm gaining weight so quickly I feel as if I'm pregnant with triplets, there is, indeed, only one baby in there. And was I part of the investigation—yeah, but now that I'm showing and have a bump under my shirt the size of a soccer ball, for some reason, my supervisor feels it's much better to keep the pregnant lady at her desk comparing stats on every single one of the victims' DNA and going over all of their clothes with a fine tooth comb, rather than out at the scene where the asshole's brilliant idea of birth control was annihilating his family! Oh—let's not forget that one woman wasn't enough for him—either! He had TWO families! Bastard! And should we talk about the social butterfly? How about the social hippo? Not many dates when you're broadcasting your last date's ability to get lucky! Oh—and I'm glad I gave you comfort while you were friendless here—and thinking about your blonde bimbo back in Nevada! It's always a real pleasure to think that I kept you company while I'm sitting here alone each night with my feet propped up, just waiting for them to start to swell! (Back up and try again.)

Grissom,

I am not forgetting about you. On the contrary. I have a constant reminder of you as I look at a picture I have hanging on my refrigerator. I was connected to that case of Mr. Fenwick and his two families, and I was kept very busy with it. I hope to never come across another case like it, but knowing human nature—it's highly unlikely that I won't come across it again from time to time. I haven't been to that crab shack lately, either. And my visitors have dwindled with the increase in my work hours. I'm back to a quiet life again and can concentrate more fully on the job again. I haven't been emailing you unless you've emailed be because I know how busy you are. I don't want to interrupt your lifestyle in Vegas.

Waiting to hear from you again,

Sara

TWENTY-TWO WEEKS AFTER GRISSOM'S DEPARTURE:

Sara,

Another month has passed and I haven't heard from you. I hope I've done nothing to offend you. You were my prize pupil at the bay. I valued our friendship very much. I wonder if your friend (was it Jesse) is keeping you so preoccupied that I'm but a distant memory. I can understand, though, how life can sometimes take a sudden, unexpected turn. I've found myself in similar circumstances. Terri Miller is a magnificent scientist and artist. Sometimes, though, I feel intimidated by her. You, on the other hand, well, lets just say those the evenings I spent when you and I walked along the bay was a so much slower, a much more casual pace. Be well, Sara, and if you would prefer to keep our relationship as a distant memory, I can understand.

Thinking of you,

Grissom

Grissom,

Your distant memory is now kicking my bladder so I'll have to get back to you on that! Maybe you'd want to check in with Terri to see if she can go on evening walks through your French restaurants you so like to frequent! Distant memory! BAH! (Try again.)

Grissom,

It has been a long time since you've written. I want to thank you for complimenting my abilities while attending your lectures. I, too, enjoyed the friendship we shared. But, if it is your intention to close our friendship due to a more substantial relationship with Ms. Miller, I can fully understand. I'll still keep that photo on my refrigerator door, though. So, you won't be far from my thoughts.

Good luck,

Sara

TWENTY-SIX WEEKS AFTER GRISSOM'S DEPARTURE:

It had been four weeks since Grissom's last email. Sara was now in the habit of carrying a box of tissues around the house with her. For some inexplicable reason, every time she'd see a commercial on television advertising local eateries that specialized in crab, she'd burst into tears. Every time she'd hear Sting on the radio singing "Every Breath I Take," (or on her stereo system since she bought the CD six months ago) she'd burst into tears. Every time she'd see the Golden Gate Bridge in the background of various advertisements throughout the city, she'd burst into tears. Today was no different as Sting played in the background and she pattered through her apartment wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tank top that revealed her basketball-sized bump quite clearly.

When the knock on the door came, she picked up her box of tissues, pulled one out and wiped her nose, tossed it in the trash, then went to answer the door. She was expecting to see her local delivery boy with a medium-mushroom-pan pizza so she grabbed her wallet on her way. The insistent knock irritated her a bit. The boy knew she was pregnant!

"Wait! I'm coming!" she called as she got the money out of her wallet, then put the extra two ones back. He didn't need quite as big a tip as she was planning on giving him—he was irritating her with his impatience. "Ben! You know I can't move as fast as I used to!"

She pulled the door open and looked at the man standing before her. He looked back with a smile on his face that faded as his gaze moved down over her body, pausing at the swollen abdomen announcing her pregnancy.

"No," Grissom said quietly. "I guess you can't."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Grissom approached the address he remembered as Sara's. He had been thinking about this moment since he first got word there was an opening in the school for two semesters and they were recruiting his services. He wasted no time checking in with Brass to get the leave of absence then quickly accepting the offer. Visions of long walks along the bay with a tall brunette brought a calmness to him he hadn't felt since he left six months earlier. Now, he could get to know her a little better. He had over ten months to spend with her and he planned on finding out rather quickly who this Jesse Cassidy-guy was as well as the other guy that Sara never identified.

He really had no plans other than stopping at her apartment and asking her to help him move his things into the small apartment the college had rented for him. He simply wanted to see her as quickly as possible and he didn't want to waste any time unpacking.

He stood at the door, feeling a combination of anxiousness and calm. He had been so stressed on the job these past six months, and his relationship with Terri Miller hadn't helped matters. She had a knack of dancing along a line that he would rather not be on. When they weren't working together, he was bombarded with emails and phone calls, always insinuating they were going to be finally opening the door to the chemistry that they knew flowed between them. And, when she would return to work with him, the flirting continued in a very sophisticated way; a way that made him stand a little straighter whenever she was around; a way that made him adjust his clothes so he didn't look quite so rumpled. But the moment they would have the opportunity to spend time together, she would push past the flirting stage and press for more intimacies. Granted, he was attracted to her, and he thought she was brilliant—but there was just something there that wasn't quite fitting with him and he couldn't put his finger on it. Most times they had managed to get to a restaurant, one or the other was interrupted by calls from work and had to end the evening prematurely. On the one or two times they had managed to get through the dinner, he would walk her to her apartment door but something held him there; some sort of barrier that wouldn't let him cross the threshold.

Now, standing at this doorway, he wanted nothing more than to cross over and see the beautiful smile he knew she would bestow upon him. He needed a friend and she provided him with a stability and reassurance that he thrived on. He already had plans of going to a crab shack or going for Italian or going for a quarter pounder with fries and a beer. He didn't care. All he knew was that she had the capability of taking his stress and tossing it aside as he could relax and become himself in her presence. He relished the idea that he could get to know this beauty and perhaps take it a step farther than he had the spring before. Maybe this time he'd even allow himself to kiss her someplace other than her hand.

He put down one of the pieces of luggage that he carried with him and lifted his hand to knock. Jesus, but it was going to be good to see her. He could feel his breathing coming easier to him already. But then the easiness started to fade as she didn't come to the door immediately. What if she wasn't home? Hadn't she said she had started socializing more? What was that guy's name? Jesse Cassidy? Odd name, he thought to himself. One he'd never bestow upon his child for surely he was teased in school for having the combined names of two notorious outlaws of the west. Who would name their child after Jesse James and Butch Cassidy? Or maybe it was that other guy that she said she's been seeing lately. Didn't she say she was eating with him a lot—and it was dinnertime. Fear that perhaps she may not even live there anymore struck him and he knocked again, more insistently this time. Then he heard her.

"Wait! I'm coming!" She called and the sound of her sultry voice sent a jolt through him that he had nearly forgotten. Yes, this was what he had craved. Who was he kidding? This was what he had been hiding from every time he sat down at his desk to write her an email and decided it would be safer to just wait a little longer, maybe another week or so, until he'd contact her. That way he couldn't become too attached to her again. This was what had sent him running after Terri Miller; knowing the sight of the blonde would never arouse him as quickly as the memory of that ponytailed girl who stumbled into his classroom six months before. Jesus, she couldn't open the door fast enough so he could feast his eyes upon her slim beauty, so he knocked again. "Ben! You know I can't move as fast as I used to!"

She pulled the door open and he stood before her. His smile faded as his gaze moved down over her body, pausing at the swollen abdomen announcing her pregnancy.

"No," Grissom said quietly. "I guess you can't."

"Grissom," she breathed as she held her wallet with some bills in one hand and a box of tissues in her other. She was astonished. She didn't now what to say. "What are you. . .I mean. . .Grissom?"

He looked up at her reddened nose and eyes, clearly seeing that she had been crying then he dropped his eyes back down to her stomach. "You're. . .pregnant."

"Hey, Sara!" A teenage boy stepped up behind Grissom and startled him so badly he nearly dropped his other piece of luggage before turning to see the kid holding a box of pizza. "Sorry I'm a little late, but everyone seems to be hungry tonight at the same time."

"Thank you, Ben," she said as she took the pizza from him and handed him the money, realizing that "he" wasn't the insistent one after all, so decided he deserved his extra tip. "No, wait. I'll get more for your tip."

"Ah, that's okay," he chuckled as he looked at Grissom then turned and started back down the hallway. "You'll get me next time. I know you, you aren't about to share that pizza with anyone but junior in there. If this guy's hungry, I'll be making another trip back tonight. If not—I'll see you in two days for your Thursday night tomato and onion deep dish."

"Are you sure?" She called after him.

"Yep! Talk to ya later. I got about twenty more pizzas in the car and some of them are to be delivered to other pregnant ladies—and believe me—you don't want to keep pregnant ladies from their favorite pizza if you don't have to!"

Grissom watched all of this in silence, his head turning from one to the other as they spoke until finally the boy rounded the corner and was gone. Then he turned back and looked at Sara again. He didn't now what to say to her. The last thing he imagined was standing in her doorway and getting a hard on upon simply hearing her voice, then having her open the door and displaying an abdomen that had to be holding at least a five-month-old-fetus, if not older. It certainly made the erection dwindle rather quickly.

"You're—pregnant," he said again stupidly.

"Really?" She stood back and held the door for him, finding his accusation irritating. If anyone knew she was pregnant—she did! "Is that what's wrong? I was wondering why I felt so bloated all these months. Come in, please. Junior and I are hungry and want to eat."

He remained where he was until he saw how she started to tear up as she looked back at him. His blatant statement must have hurt her feelings and he suddenly felt like a giant oaf. He picked up his luggage and brought it inside, depositing it inside the door before following her to the bar that separated the kitchen area from the room with a television. She went to the cupboard and got down two plates and two glasses, then went to the refrigerator and got out some iced tea. She remained quiet as she put half of the pizza on each plate and poured the tea, placing a serving in front of where Grissom was standing, then taking one of the stools and pulling her food in front of herself. She hesitated as she looked up at him and wiped at her nose with a tissue.

"You're. . .pregnant."

"You already said that," she sniffed, her emotions getting the best of her again as she watched how he seemed absolutely disgusted with her. "Three times now." She picked up her pizza and put it to her mouth but couldn't seem to take a bite of it so returned it to her plate, turning eyes toward him that were tearing up again. She knew she was about to face the piper now that he had found out she was pregnant with his child and returned to San Francisco to confront her. "So, how did you figure it out?"

He looked at her in disbelief. He looked at her—that's how! "I wish you would have told me sooner. It would have prevented this awkwardness. You know, you had plenty of opportunities to fill me in during the past six months."

She nodded her head and sniffed then looked back at him. "I couldn't tell you. You were too busy with your own life in Vegas. You have Terri. I decided early on that I'd take care of this on my own."

"On your own?" He looked at her with disbelief. Surely she had told the child's father about the pregnancy.

"I thought it would be better that way," she said as she dropped her gaze.

"Despite what many believe, a father wants to be involved with his child."

"Really?" She looked up at him again and hope glimmered in her eyes. Perhaps he "was" interested in seeing the pregnancy through.

"Of course." He had the sudden urge to throttle the son-of-a-bitch who got his Sara pregnant and abandoned her.

"Okay," She smiled at him. If he planned to be involved in the pregnancy, did that mean he wanted to stay here—with her? "So—the luggage—are you going to be moving in here?"

"I—I hadn't considered it," he said with a lift of his brow. "What about Jesse?"

"Jesse?" She asked then realized he was talking about her phantom date from nearly six months ago. She felt rather foolish telling him there was no such man; that she merely came up with a name to try to make him jealous, so she altered the truth a bit. "No. Jesse's long gone. When he found out about the pregnancy, he split for good."

"I see." Grissom tensed his jaw. The bastard gets Sara pregnant then leaves her all alone. "Then I guess you're better off without him, aren't you?"

She smiled at him again. How sweet. He was willing to continue his association with her even thinking she had dated someone else after he had left. "Yes. Yes, I am. So, now that you know Jesse won't be interfering with my life anymore, are you considering staying here? Or would you rather stay in a place of your own? I can understand if you wouldn't want to stay here with me. I just. . .I don't know. . .thought it might be a good idea to have you around in case anything happens out of the ordinary with the pregnancy and I can rely on you to get me medical help if I'm not able to do it myself."

"Oh," he mumbled as he looked down over her body again. The dirty rotten bastard, he thought again. How can a man leave a woman on her own in a big city like this to raise his child. He could at least see to her safety while she's carrying the baby. But, evidently she got involved with a real loser. He sighed as he contemplated the thought. Well, things weren't going to turn out exactly as he had planned, but still, hadn't he put himself on guard to maintain a close but "not too close" friendship with Sara? It wouldn't hurt to stay in the same apartment as her so he could see that she was alright, and with her getting larger every day with another man's child, as she's bound to, he wouldn't have to worry about wanting to become intimate with her. They could simply maintain the friendship he was hoping for. "It "is" closer to the university. Are you sure it wouldn't be an inconvenience?"

"It might take a little getting used to. I'm used to living alone. I'm sure you are too." The happiness in her eyes disappeared as she looked at him again. "But what about Terri? You're not intending to involve her, are you? I mean, I know you're still in a relationship with her—but, I'd rather not have her involved with my baby."

"No. No, certainly not. I can understand that completely. Don't worry about Terri. I'm sure we'll still be able to maintain contact through emails. Everything should work out fine. Um—do you have an extra bedroom?"

"Um-yes." What had she expected? Him to jump right into her bed? He admitted that he was only there to see to the needs of the baby, after all he was still involved with Terri Miller. Okay, so they would be in separate rooms. So she got up from the stool and started across the living room and down a small hallway where there were three doors. She showed him a bedroom on each side, then a bathroom at the end. "It isn't much. But it will do until the baby's born."

He watched as she wiped her nose with the tissue again and he stopped and took her hand in his. "Sara. I can't say I'd be here if it hadn't been for the university contacting me. But now that I am, I want you to know that everything is going to be fine. I don't see a problem with an old science lecturer and a young CSI agent sharing a home and seeing that a baby is brought into this world in a safe manner. You don't have anything to worry about in that regard. I'll be here for the next two semesters, so if you want me to get a place of my own "after" the baby is born, I can understand that, so don't hesitate to let me know, okay?"

"The university contacted you?" She knit her brows. The university! Who in the hell would have told him she was pregnant? Well, she thought, any one of the professors who had worked with him and had seen her about the city—or, and this one really pissed her off—what about the three bimbos? Shannon Manstrum, Tiffany Price, and Kimberly Riley. They knew she and Grissom had been together that night—or at least they knew they were leading up to it. Did they see her somewhere and notice she was pregnant then put two and two together? They had to have contacted him or let someone know at the university. Oh well, she sighed. Too late to do anything about it now. The damage was already done.

He nodded his head yes. "When they invited me to teach four classes per semester. I have two day classes and two evening classes. Otherwise, I wouldn't have come back this early. I probably wouldn't have been back until after the baby was born."

"Okay. I see," she said as she slid her hand out of his and started walking back toward the kitchen area again. "I think this should work out fine. We'll just have to take this one step at a time, won't we?"

"Certainly. I think considering the circumstances, we can't ask for more than that." He tried to smile encouragingly at her as she sat on her stool again, but she sniffed loudly as she put her pizza to her mouth and bit into it. "It's going to be alright, Sara. I promise."

"Are you—are you going to stay—after the baby is born?" She tried to chew her pizza as she wiped her nose with a tissue again.

He couldn't help but smile at her. There she was, probably well into her second trimester, or perhaps entering into her third, and she looked so vulnerable and childlike that he just wanted to reach out and pull her into his arms to comfort her. But he remained on his side of the counter where she had put his plate of pizza. "I said I'll be here for several months after the baby is born."

"I see," she said again. So, he wasn't going to stick around to actually "watch" the child grow. Of course not—he probably got into enough trouble with Terri "the bitch—she-cow—tight-ass" Miller for even coming here that he'd be living in pure hell if he decided to actually be responsible for the child. "Well, we can't ask for more than that—can we?"

"I—um—know it must be very hard dealing with this, honey, but like you just said—we'll have to take it one step at a time," he tried to reassure her, feeling she knew the implausibility of him continuing to stay after his terms with the university were over, just was feeling rather exposed and sensitive right now. "Who knows, maybe Jesse will be back by then, wanting to step back into your life and take over."

Sara stiffened in her seat. God! He was so easily willing to push this child off onto another man, imaginary though he may be. Okay, if he wanted to be that callous, she'd play along with it. "Ya know, you're right. Maybe I should just call Jesse right now and get him to come back and pick up where we let off."

Grissom looked down at his untouched plate. "Would you like me to talk to him?"

"What?" She nearly choked on her pizza that she still had in her mouth, making her grab her tea and start swallowing it quickly before looking back at him. "No! I don't want you to talk to him! You'd have no reason to talk to him! Anyway, he left the city—I mean, the state—the country even! I can't get him on the phone right now!"

It was clear to Grissom that she was lying about knowing Jesse's whereabouts. She evidently was trying to protect him, even after what he had done to her. "It's up to you, Sara. I mean, if you feel Jesse should be here. I can understand and will go to the apartment the university rented for me. I only stopped here to see if you wanted to help me get situated."

"That's all?" She gulped down another set of tears.

"Sara," he sighed as he looked at her sadness and it tore at his heart as he reached across the counter and took her hand in his, ignoring the grease that was on her fingers. "How about if I just spend the night for starts? I mean, I'm back in San Francisco—you're here, alone—why not be alone together until we're sure what we want to do?"

She nodded her head then looked down at his hand, realizing he just got grease all over his palms. She handed him a napkin. "I'm sorry. Of course. You're right. I'll help you get settled in for the night then you can come back and eat. Evidently you're not very hungry right now."

"Actually," he said as he wiped his hands with the napkin then got up and picked up his luggage so he could follow her back to the bedroom on the left side of the hall. "I had something to eat while waiting in the airport before getting on the plain. The air sickness seems to go better if I have something in my stomach."

She opened the door and turned on the ceiling light as he walked in behind her and dropped his luggage at the foot of the bed. She gave him a small smile. "Motion sickness?"

"I'm afraid so." He returned her gentle gesture. "I'm not always good as a passenger in a car, either. Most of the time I'm okay—but sometimes, I'm rather put off by it."

"Me too. At least since getting pregnant."

"You suffered from hyperemesis gravidium?" he asked and she nodded. "I'm sorry to hear that. Did it last long?"

"All day—for about eight weeks." She went to the closet and pulled down a set of pillows, sheets and blankets. "But riding as a passenger in a car was the worst. Even driving, sometimes I'd have to pull over to throw up."

"But you're all better now?"

"Most of the time. But not one hundred percent. There are still times I can't hold my stomach. I still can't ride in cars unless I'm driving. At least that part's gotten better. I don't think I could do the airplane thing either. I never got sick like that before I was pregnant though. I must have gotten it from you."

"What do you mean?" He chuckled as he took the pillows from her and sat them on the dresser then turned back to get the sheet. "You can't catch hyperemesis."

"Well, not technically," She said as she helped him spread the sheet across the double-bed and put its fitted edges under the corners. "Evidently your weak stomach genes outnumbered mine."

"What?" He wasn't quite sure he had caught what she said. It was a rather jumbled sentence. "How'd I manage that?"

"By impregnating me." She started spreading the top sheet, not noticing how he stood on the opposite side of the bed watching her until she giggled. "I'm only kidding."

"Oh." He grabbed the other side of the top sheet and spread it out, then grabbed the pillows and put them at the head of the bed. "I knew that."

"Knew what?" She spread the blanket on the bed and he grabbed the other side.

"That you were kidding." He smiled at her again.

"Of course I was kidding." She spread the comforter over the bed and smoothed it with a wave of her hand over its surface then stood erect and looked at him. "You certainly didn't transfer weak stomach genes to me that night—only your sperm."

This time when he looked at her, waiting for the punch line, it didn't come. He looked more closely at the tender smile she was wearing and realized what she had just said. His knees suddenly seemed to turn to rubber and he subconsciously thanked the heavens above that there was a chair close by that he sank into. Jesus! He was staying with a psycho!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Grissom?" Sara stood at the side of the bed, looking at him as he stared at her from the chair he had sunk into. "Grissom?"

"What did you say?"

"I said you didn't transfer your weak stomach genes into me or the baby," she chuckled then stopped when she saw he wasn't finding the situation the least bit funny.

"What did you say?" He repeated.

"I said. . .Grissom? Are you okay?"

"What "did" you say? Exactly—what are you trying to insinuate?"

"Insinuate? I'm not trying to insinuate anything," she said, not having a clue what was going on. "What's wrong, Grissom? You're scaring me."

"Then you're "not" trying to accuse me of getting you pregnant."

Sara straightened as she looked down at him. "Accuse you? Of course I'm accusing you. I mean. . .but, that's putting it rather harshly, don't you think? I mean, it isn't as if I called you up and said, hey guess what, ya knocked me up! "You're" the one who showed up on "my" doorstep saying you were ready to step up to the plate—at least step up a little closer to the plate—by being here."

"I'm not stepping anywhere!" He said as he got to his feet, nearly tripping as he subconsciously pushed the chair in front of him as a barrier between the two of them. "Are you crazy? Or just that desperate for someone to take over for this Jesse character?"

"What the hell are you talking about? You just spent half an hour telling me how you found out from the university that you got me pregnant and you planned to stay here at least until the baby's several months old!"

"I did nothing of the sort! Why in the hell would the university tell me I got you pregnant? How would they even "know" if I did any such thing? And—how in the hell could I have gotten you pregnant when I never had sex with you?" He took a step back, away from her, as if her condition were contagious.

"Never had sex. . .you don't remember the last night we went out and got more than a bit tipsy?" She eyed him closely. "I thought maybe something happened and it jarred your memory. I thought maybe after the drug wore off completely, you'd had some vague idea of what you had done."

"What I'd done! I didn't "do" anything!"

"Oh," she stared at him. "You did plenty, buddy. You were going at it like you were the frickin' Energizer bunny!"

"Are you insane! I never got near you! I left you at that bar."

"Really, genius?" She put her hands on her hips. "So tell me, Dr. Grissom, just what did you do "after" you left me in that bar?"

"I—I—took Shannon—um," he stalled as if he had to think to recall the girl's name. "Uh—Shannon—um. . ."

"Manstrum, Grissom! Shannon Manstrum!" Sara provided for him.

"Whatever! I took her back to my hotel and we. . .well, I don't know exactly what we did, but I know I had sex with her. Hell, I took her virginity. There was evidence all over my. . ." he slowed down as if embarrassed that he was admitting this. ". . .hotel suite."

"Right! If you did anything with Shannon Manstrum that night it was after "I" left your hotel—and believe me—you're probably at least six years too late if you think you got "her" virginity!"

"But she admitted to it!"

"You confronted her about it?" Sara asked, not only feeling embarrassed by the fact, but insulted.

"Yes! I had to apologize for. . .doing whatever I did. And she admitted it! She kept saying she didn't want anyone to find out—which I can't blame her. . . She kept saying she didn't want her father to find out what she had done because she'd be in such trouble. . ."

"She didn't want anyone to find out that she "drugged you!" Sara said with disbelieve at his gullibility. "Why do you think you can't remember doing anything? I don't know what the hell she slipped into your drink while we were in that bar, but you wouldn't stop! Not until you tried to pin me to your bed while telling me about your girlfriend back in Vegas! That more or less put a damper on the evening, I must say!"

"Girlfriend? I don't have a girlfriend in Vegas," he said stupidly.

"Terri Miller? Does that ring a bell? Or don't you remember "her," either?"

"Forget about Terri Miller! We've got more important things to discuss than Terri!"

"Alright! You took me out to the alley and started to do it on the trunk of the car. . ."

"That's a lie. I'd never have sex in public like that."

"It was dark. . .and believe me. . .you were more than willing. That was when Shannon and her two bimbo friends found us. If she was apologizing for doing something that night—then I'd say it's pretty clear that she's the one who drugged you."

"But. . .there was. . ." he looked up at Sara with confusion. ". . .blood on my sheets the next day. I thought I must have taken one of those girls home . . . a virgin . . ."

"Well, I can pretty well swear that I wasn't as well used as any of those girls. And if you're looking for apologies, then I'm sorry I bled on your sheets. But if you were observant, you probably would've found some on your hallway table "and" your kitchen table."

"I—did. Later, after I got home from school that day. I found it. I went through the place when I noticed it on the kitchen table. Then I found it on the hallway table." He looked at her as if realizing that if she knew where the traces of blood were, she must have been there. "But I don't remember."

"I know." She looked down at her hands in quiet frustration.

"But why didn't you tell me? You had every opportunity to tell me the next day when we went back to the bay. You said nothing."

"Because "you" said enough." She turned and started out of the bedroom. "Your pillow talk could use some fine tuning, Grissom. A girl doesn't like to be told about a man's gorgeous girlfriend while he's in the middle of a sex marathon with her."

"Sex marathon?" He followed her as she went back to the kitchen. "What the hell happened that night?"

"You want details?" She asked with embarrassment. "I'm not telling you!"

"Why not, if I did it?"

She turned and looked him in the eye as she tilted her head with vexation. "Because—you don't remember! Which means, as far as you're concerned—we never did anything! And that means you didn't "want" to do anything—and it was all a complete farce. So—we'll just forget any of this ever happened and we'll all go on and live happily ever after!"

"We "can't" pretend it never happened!" He said angrily.

"Why not!" She shouted back.

"Because you're pregnant!"

"Oh," she said quietly then looked at him again. "So? I was willing to raise it by myself before you showed up at my door. I'm pretty sure I'd be willing to do it again."

He grabbed hold of her upper arms and pulled her close. "Tell me you're not lying about all of this!"

Her anger was growing as she stared at him. "You tell me something, Grissom. Do you happen to have a fetish for white satin and lace panties?" She watched the confused look on his face, then the realization of what she was getting at. "Ah, you must've found them that day, because I couldn't find them when I was leaving so I went home commando. You seemed to have had a fondness for them that night. Do you still have them stashed away somewhere?"

"No!" He said as if the idea were absurd. "I threw them away. I thought they must've been Shannon's. I had no desire to keep a reminder of Shannon. . ."

"Manstrum! Shannon Manstrum! For God's sake—you thought you screwed her! I'd think you'd at least "try" to remember her damned name!"

"I tried to "forget" it." He looked back at her again. "And you're positive this child is mine—and not this "Jesse" guy's?"

"Of course I'm positive!"

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because Jesse is a figment of my imagination! Someone I wanted to use to . . . antagonize you. . .to make you think I wasn't sitting at home all alone, pining for you while puking my guts out carrying your kid!" She dropped her gaze to her hands again. "There hasn't been anyone else."

She looked back at him when she heard his deep intake of breath then he released her and ran his hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. "Just tell me this. All the time I was so "eager" to interact with you. Did I force you to do anything you didn't want to?"

"Are you in the habit of forcing women to do things they don't want?" She asked with a raised brow.

"No! Absolutely not! But then I've never been drugged so badly that I practically attacked a woman in public then brought her home and performed sexual acrobatics on the kitchen table then continued through two more rooms."

"Well, that's good to know," she said, not wanting to answer him and let him know that while he wouldn't have normally shown any such interest in bedding her, she was more than willing to jump into the sack with him. "Grissom—if you didn't come back because you found out I was pregnant—why did you come back?"

"I—I was offered a position. I told you that."

"And you came to my apartment—why?"

"Because I wanted to see you. We were friends."

She nodded her head weakly. "We "were" friends. I get it. Look, I'm not feeling particularly well right now, and I think since you're already set up in the extra bedroom, you should stay tonight. We'll sleep on it and perhaps come up with something suitable tomorrow morning." She turned and started back toward her bedroom again, then stopped without looking at him. "And, Grissom. . .now that you know. . . you don't have to feel obligated to stay. I'll understand if you're not here when I wake up in the morning."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Grissom lay in Sara's extra bed staring at the ceiling. He had watched her leave the kitchen, looking defeated, yet carrying herself a little straighter as she held her hand on her abdomen with her pride shining through. He was half tempted to go to the extra room, get his bags and get the hell out of this place, but when she turned to enter her room, pausing to open the door, he got a full view of her protruding stomach and he became mesmerized. That was "his" child growing within her. A surge of male pride swept through him unlike anything he had ever felt before. "His" child. He didn't know what to do as he watched her disappear into behing her door, but leaving her alone right now was not an option. That was when he went back to the extra room and slowly undressed until he was in his boxers and tee-shirt.

What had he done? And would the drug have any effects on the baby? What should he do about the little bitch who actually slipped him the drug, if anything? It might just bring up a whole other load of problems. At this point it would be best if he moved on and worked with what was before him. He recalled how sad and upset Sara had appeared upon his arrival and the more they talked, the more content she appeared—until, he pulled the rug out from beneath her. Well, he thought as he ran his hand up over his eyes, not only was the rug pulled out from beneath me—the whole damned floor was! Jesus! He had so much to consider, so much to think about. He never contemplated having children. It was impossible to think such a thing.

He lay in bed, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that the woman across the hall was very much bulging with his baby growing in her belly and suddenly the thought struck him in a way he never imagined. Underneath the shock was a sudden titillation. He had created a child. He had gone through with the mechanics of creating a baby—with Sara Sidle. Christ, she was only a kid! What had she said six months ago? She was two weeks away from turning twenty-six? And here he was at forty-one. What the hell had he done to her? She said he tried to do her on the trunk of the car—in an alley, for Christ's sake! The sudden image that flashed through his mind made a jolt run straight through to his backbone. Jeez, the thought of dropping his pants and spreading that goddess out on the cool metal of their car with the breeze blowing over them had his senses reeling. Then the image grew and became more explicit as he grasped onto her blouse and pulled it open so quickly that the buttons flew into the darkness. He recalled the white satin and lace panties he had recovered from his apartment the next day so he easily imagined a matching bra that covered her fleshy mounds that beckoned to him. He reached forward and grasped onto her breast as he spread her legs with his other hand and moved to stand between them. She was so beautiful as she looked up at him with her mouth slightly open, expressing the pleasure he was giving her as he moved his fingers up to dance over the satin covering her apex. He could feel her moist heat through the cloth already and he couldn't hold back any longer as he reached inside the leg opening and ran his finger through her folds, spreading the wetness he found there along her length, from one end of her to the other. His finger lightly touched every erotic nerve zone he could find beneath her panties and when he finally pressed his finger inside he listened to her growl of acceptance. This was when he would not have been able to wait any longer and pulled his hand away to grasp onto and guide himself to her hot center. He would fill her, slowly, allowing her to hug him tightly as he slid his length inside. And still, she would continue to watch him through those amazing eyes, and her mouth, God, her mouth! He'd hold onto her hips as he would start stroking into her and he'd watch her mouth as she'd slide her tongue over her lips and then over that gorgeous gap between her teeth. Oh, man! Did he have the opportunity to find out what it felt like to have that spectacular gap scrape along his erection? Did he have his dream come true, only to be so damned drugged that he couldn't even remember it? Or even more, did he have the privilege of spreading her open and tasting her nectar? He had always imagined what it would be like to pleasure her in this way. Had he done so? He closed his eyes as he imagined what it would have been like to settle between her sensational legs and spread her open for his investigation; her taste, her scent, her texture, and her reactions. Jeez! But if he had her in front of him right now, he wouldn't be able to stop himself and he'd be getting his fill of her essence as his tongue would pleasure them both.

"Grissom?" Sara's voice broke through his imagination and he yanked the comforter over himself to hide the impressive erection he was sporting.

"Yes, Sara?" He nearly croaked.

"I—I wanted to talk to you for a minute. Could I come in?"

"Uh—yeah." He looked around for anything else he could use to cover himself but stopped when he heard the jiggle of the knob.

"Dr. Grissom—the door's locked. I can't come in. I mean, if you'd rather I don't—that's fine. I'll—um—just wait until morning to talk to you."

"Damn!" he said to himself as he jumped out of bed and wrapped the comforter around his waist. "No, wait. I'll be right there."

He made his way to the door and pulled it open to find her standing there with her curls flowing down onto her shoulders with a white nightshirt that was opened at the throat and only buttoned to the level of her breasts, which gave him an excellent view of the mounds of perfection from above. He looked at the long legs and bare feet that came from beneath the white cotton shirt that covered her in the front to almost her knees but to her sides, revealed what was quickly becoming his weakness—white satin and lace panties. He rolled his eyes in complete frustration as he took a step back and opened the door farther for her entrance.

She slowly walked inside, evidently seeing his uneasiness as she eyed him with curiosity. "I—um—I just wanted to apologize. This is coming as a complete shock to you and I'm not helping matters by being so defensive. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" He moved to sit on the end of the bed. "You didn't get "yourself" pregnant. And I know you, Sara—even if it was only for a few days before I left—I know you aren't deceitful or manipulative. You have nothing to be sorry about."

"Oh, really?" She gave him a tiny smile of doubt as she moved to sit on the chair and placed her hand on her belly. "So you don't think keeping junior, here, a secret for the past six months, is kinda deceitful?"

His eyes went to the area her hand was lying and what normally should have been decreasing the size of his erection, was having the opposite effect on him. Pregnant women had never been a target of his affections—ever, simply because the thought never occurred to him. Not to say he had never been approached. He recalled a friend from Vegas whose wife was pregnant and cornered him during a Christmas party. He found the idea rather repulsive at the time, but it wasn't so much the fact that she was pregnant, as it was the fact that she was pregnant with someone else's child. The more he looked at the rounded area beneath Sara's hand, the more he pressed down on the comforter that was still around his waist.

"You felt you had no choice," he told her as his eyes remained on her stomach then moved on to her legs that were slightly spread beneath the round abdomen, legs that he swore went on forever. Did he have them around his waist, he wondered as he watched them. Did he have them over his shoulders. Or was he looking at this all wrong and he had approached her from the back. Oh, he could well imagine her standing naked in front of him and approaching her from the rear as his hands roamed over the front of her.

"Grissom?" Sara asked, evidently for the second time, snapping his attention up to her face.

"I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I said, I don't want to be an interruption to your life. That's why I didn't tell you. You're relationship with Terri is very important and, well, if you'd prefer her not to know about it, I can understand."

"Terri?" He asked as he looked at her face. His eyes moved over her perfect nose, and her lips that begged to be kissed. Those lips, he thought as he licked his own. Where had they been? What had they touched on him? Did they stop at his mouth? Or did she like to roam during her lovemaking? Had she kissed his neck? His shoulders? His chest or stomach? Were her lips near his thighs, his abdomen? Dear God! His breathing was increasing as she smiled again at him, exposing that precious gap. Was he the recipient of what he could only imagine as being perfect oral sex?

"Your girlfriend."

"My what?" How easy would it be to simply take her hand and pull her over onto the bed with him? Would she let him open those buttons to reveal the skin and satin and lace that was beneath? Would she let him touch the mound that announced to the world that there was going to be a new Grissom? Would she let him taste the splendor she had hidden there?

"Dr. Miller," she said as she slowly got to her feet and approached him. "Grissom."

"Oh." He looked up at her as she stood before him. He hadn't planned on this when he knocked on her door tonight. He was convinced he wanted to be a friend to her—but the evidence has proven to him that it was way beyond that. "Dr. Miller and I have only gone out several times—but she would never have allowed our "relationship" to escalate to something of this level."

"Of course not," Sara said stiffly. "Dr. Miller wouldn't stoop so low as to get pregnant, would she? She's much too classy to do such a primitive thing as to accidentally get pregnant. Well, Dr. Grissom, I'm sorry to have taken up more of your time tonight. I just wanted to. . ."

Grissom stood up and faced her. He had no idea what the hell she was talking about. "What "did" you want to do "Miss" Sidle? I'm not understanding your reasons for coming in here tonight. You say you're sorry for being defensive, you offer to hide your pregnancy, or I should rephrase that as "my contribution" to your pregnancy from a woman I've never even been intimate with, and then you immediately become defensive again."

"You haven't?" She asked as she looked up at him with renewed interest.

"I haven't—what?" He asked in exasperation.

"Been intimate with her."

He looked confused as to her interest. "No."

"Oh," she said simply. "Well, okay then."

"Where are you going?" He asked as she opened the door and exited the room.

"To bed. I'm exhausted and I'm sure you must be too. Goodnight, Grissom."

He watched her cross the hall then close the door behind her. He pushed his door closed with a little more force than was necessary then removed the comforter and looked down at the tent in his pants. Oh yeah, he felt exhausted alright—so exhausted that he wanted nothing more than to cross that hall and climb on top of her and show her how much energy he still had.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Sara sat on the edge of her bed and started to giggle. A full-fledged giggle! He hadn't had sex with that android! Hee-hee-hee! AND, he was rattled; VERY rattled by her appearance when she showed up at his door. She didn't know what he had been doing "before" she came to his room—but she could definitely see what he was unsuccessfully trying to hide. She may not be all that experienced, but she had some idea that a man's mid-section wasn't supposed to stick out "that far" under normal circumstances. She hadn't noticed it immediately but when she stood before him and he let his eyes roam from her bare feet up to her dark curls, he had sort of gone limp in the wrist and dropped the blanket slightly. After that, it was a matter of checking him out whenever he couldn't see—which was quite often considering he was out of touch with their conversation almost from the start.

She had hoped her state of dress would affect him. She took extra care to see that her hair was falling just right around her shoulders after she had changed out of her blue cotton hip-hugger underwear that she had been wearing into her white satin and lace panties. But she had no real hopes of it turning him into a speechless mass of mush the way it had. Hee-hee-hee!

She felt good. She felt great. She was elated! After all those weeks of being poked with a heparin lock, weeks of trying to rid herself of the nearly permanent ring around her face from heaving into a bucket, weeks of picking foreign substances out of her hair when she didn't get it out of the way in time (which, by the way, was usually – what else – rice crispie treats! Oh! She did have a spectacular day of it that time she thought she was going to tackle a Whopper from Burger King. What a joke that was. Hold the pickle, hold the lettuce, my ass! She was picking pickle and lettuce out of her hair for days! She'd never again have to wonder how embarrassing it was to have a gorgeous six-foot-tall male nurse sit on the edge of her bed, about to inject her IV with her daily dose of vitamins as she looked adoringly back at him, only to have him squint his eyes as he reached forward and pulled a few chunks of tomato from her limp curls!), she was ready for some positive attention! No more tomato curls for her—not in front of the god across the hall! Now that she knew she could—she was going to have him panting after her and making him suffer as thoroughly as he had made her suffer these past twenty weeks! Ha! He had no power over her!

And during those twenty weeks—he wasn't getting "any" off of his blonde robot! Hee-hee-hee. She got to her feet and very nearly did a little "happy dance" but stopped suddenly when she heard the loud knocking on her door. Her eyes flew to the piece of wood that separated her from the man on the other side. What the hell could he want now? Knowing Grissom he was having second thoughts about staying here, seeing as it wouldn't be "proper." Never mind how proper it was when he shoved her onto the table in his hallway and did the most amazing things to her with his mouth.

Another knock—much more insistent this time. Can't wait, huh? Sara thought to herself as she moseyed over toward the door. Well, he was just going to have to wait! He made her wait for nearly six months! So, she'd take her time to answer the damned door—lah-dee-dah! She stopped to adjust the runner on her bureau so it was more centered. She stopped to wipe at a little dust that had collected on a picture frame. She even stopped to try to pick the lint off the sweater that was hanging on the back of her chair. But suddenly the door swung open to reveal him standing there, in all his glory, still holding onto the blanket at his waist. The unexpected opening had her jumping back in surprise and letting out a squeak before trying to regain her composure as she looked at him.

"Yes? Do you want something?" She asked, again, giggling to herself. Does he want something? Jesus, he's nearly lifting the blanket off of the floor with his "wants." Hee-hee-hee! But he'll only say something lame like, ". . .um, yes, please—do you mind if I use your shampoo? I seem to have lost mine during my flight. . .." But instead, he took some rapid steps into the room, bringing another squeak as she backed away from him.

"You did that on purpose!"

"I did?" She looked at him blankly.

"Yes! You did!"

"I'm sorry—I didn't mean to. Wait. "What" did I do on purpose?" The thought that he might have reconsidered his opinion and was about to accuse her of getting pregnant on purpose struck her.

"You know full well what you did! You came back here—changed clothes—put on the skimpiest piece of sleepwear I've ever seen. . ."

"What do you mean skimpy? It's covering more than "your" sleepwear would be if you weren't wearing a blanket as an accessory."

"Oh, no it isn't! I can see your underwear—where you're wearing them anyway! You're not even bothering to try to cover the area where you "aren't" wearing them!"

"You should talk! You're not wearing anything to cover "your" underwear."

"How would you know? "I'm wearing a blanket as an accessory," remember?" He lifted a brow as he looked at her. "For all you know, I could be wearing my jeans under here."

"No you're not," she said skeptically. "Or you wouldn't be covering them with the damned blanket!"

"I—I was cold," he said indignantly.

"No, you weren't! When it's cold—it goes in—not out!" She said smartly, then felt her cheeks heat up as she realized she just revealed her knowledge of the mechanics of the male anatomy.

"It—it isn't out!" He told her with just as much embarrassment.

"Prove it." She reached out and grabbed the blanket but he held it more firmly.

"I'm not showing you!"

"Why not?" She tugged again. "You're a doctor. Didn't you ever play doctor when you were a child?"

"Evidently not as much as you did. Stop pulling!"

"That's not what you said last time you were here." She couldn't stop the giggle that bubbled inside of her as she tried to grab onto the blanket again. "You were saying, "ohhh baby, pull it right there—ohhhh, honey, don't stop!"

Her statement stopped his movements as he stared at her through wide eyes. "I didn't—did I?"

His lack of focus allowed her to yank the blanket out of his hands but by now the flagpole was no longer at half-mast. She looked at his boxers in disappointment.

"Oh," she pouted before looking up at him again.

"Are you satisfied? I told you I wasn't. . ."

"Saluting me?"

"Sara," he grumbled as he grabbed the blanket and pulled it back again, not bothering to cover himself this time. "Where did all this. . .attitude. . .come from?"

She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot as she looked back at him, thinking, okay, smart ass, you want to know where my "attitude" came from—I'll let you know.

"It comes from over five months of carrying your child. It comes from five months of being alone with my only visitors being nurses who would stop in twice a day and stay long enough to take my vitals and hook up a new bag of IV solution. It comes from five months of a loneliness I've never known before because "someone" had to get drugged in a bar then use me as his personal inflatable doll. It comes from having such incredible sex—then absolutely nothing—while you're out wining and dining Miss Stick-Up-Her-Ass and trying to get her to give you a portion of what you got so easily from me!"

"The sex was incredible?" He asked, making her growl at him in frustration.

"That's the only part you heard! How typically male of you!"

"But—it was incredible?" He took a step toward her with a raised brow and the beginnings of a satisfied smile. "Really?"

"Oh!" She nearly stomped her foot at him. "How would I know? I had nothing to compare it with."

"Are you serious? You're telling me I bedded a virgin and I don't even remember it?" He looked up at her in confusion. "Wait a minute. I thought you said you were twenty-six."

"I "am" twenty-six."

"And you're saying you were still a virgin."

"Not everyone is willing to drop their pants when they're in their teens! So—now, I guess you'll never know—will you?"

He looked down at her protruding stomach then back up at her face with concern. "I can't imagine giving birth to a baby after only having sex one night would be very-easy."

"And just what are you suggesting, Grissom?" She raised a brow as she looked at him then started giggling again. "Stretching me out so my birth canal will be more accommodating when I go into labor?"

His indignity returned. "Well, it makes sense to me!" He watched as she continued to chuckle. "You can stop laughing now. It was only a thought."

"It sounds like a plan to me. Let's see—should we make a schedule? Every three days like clockwork?"

"I said—it was only a thought!" He looked at her closely. "So—then you "did" do that on purpose."

"Do what? You never specified, other than changing clothes. Yes, I change clothes all the time—especially when I'm going to bed."

"You didn't dress like this for my benefit?"

"Did you dress like "that" for "my" benefit?"

"No. I just undressed so I could go to bed."

"Well, there ya go." She rolled her eyes then tried to walk around him, but he put his hand on her waist and stopped her.

"Then if you didn't dress like that for me—and I didn't dress like this for you—then it's safe to say we should go to bed."

She blinked as she looked at him. "I don't get your logic—but okay."

"Well, okay then." He scratched his beard in thought then turned and started for her door. "I'll see you in the morning."

She watched in disbelief as he left her room and went into his. She couldn't believe it. There was the perfect opportunity to have him back in her bed, and she blew it! Or did he blow it? She wasn't sure.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The sun was pouring into the window as Grissom blinked his eyes to find a woman of perfection standing at the foot of his bed. His first instinct was to cover himself, knowing he had kicked the blankets off during the night but he couldn't seem to grasp onto the blanket when he watched how her eyes were moving over him, starting at his feet and moving up over his legs then slowing as she approached his thighs as she slid her tongue over her lips. He couldn't stop himself from fidgeting slightly, opening his legs the tiniest bit, as she watched him. After all, it was those amazing brown eyes that were causing him to grow beneath the cotton of his boxers. He better do something before she noticed the state she was putting him in, but when he reached for the blanket this time, she objected as she slid one knee on the end of the bed, between his feet.

"No, don't," she breathed as she leisurely slid her other knee onto the mattress, nudging his legs apart to provide her with adequate room. "I need to see. I want to watch."

"Watch?" His voice cracked as he looked up at her. The image of her standing erect on her knees in front of him and opening her nightshirt until it hung open on both sides of her, revealing the edges of her magnificent breasts and the exquisite roundness of her tummy before providing him with the most spectacular view of her white satin and lace panties that hugged her hips, and then those thighs. His eyes moved back up over her body as her hands slid down over herself, opening the shirt even wider as she caressed her waist and then her hips.

"I like to watch you grow. You make me want you so badly just watching you. Please—may I touch?" She dipped a finger down and let her nail run over his thigh, the sensation making him even harder and bringing an appreciative smile to her. "That's my boy. May I touch—more?"

He silently nodded his head once as his eyes remained glued to her, not knowing what to expect as he watched that beautiful tongue slide over her amazing lips again. She smiled such a sexy smile and revealed that gap that had him absolutely throbbing by now then she lowered herself until she was lying between his legs. He watched as her lips tasted the tender skin on the inside of his thighs and moved upward as her fingers massaged the thick muscles. He felt her tongue slide along his skin until she met with the bottoms of his boxers where she kissed the area.

"What would you like me to do now?" She whispered to him but the sound went right through him as he clasped onto the sheets beneath him.

"Go on," he breathed. "Do it."

"You'll have to show me. I've never done it before." She looked up at him and gave him a crooked smile. "Or you can tell me. Which do you prefer?"

"Oh, God." He reached down with both hands and freed himself from his boxers then didn't really know what to do from that point. He had never been the recipient of a first-time blow job. If she didn't know what to do—what could he do to show her without seeming aggressive? He looked at her again and she seemed to be pouting.

"Show me," she whispered again.

"Alright," he thought and he put his right hand onto the back of her head and pulled her toward him until he could feel her breath over the throbbing head of his erection. God, if she didn't do something soon he didn't know if he would be able to control his other hand or not and giving himself a hand job was the last thing he wanted right now. "Open-open your mouth."

She did as he said and he pulled her forward slightly letting her take over as she lowered herself over him. She seemed to pick up the momentum quickly and even had some added touches he had never experienced such as the way her teeth glided over him. Jesus, it was as good as he had imagined, and he moved both hands to her hair, assisting her in her motions as he took in the texture of the long curls. He looked at her, watched her as she became completely consumed with her job and soon she started to moan against him. He could go on like this forever. She was so beautiful, so amazingly sexy, and she was doing what he had wanted for so long. He felt himself tightening as he gripped onto her and fought not to force her but she was just too potent for him, too good at what she was doing, that he couldn't stop himself.

"Sara! Take more, Sara!" He breathed as his head pressed back against his pillows in ecstasy.

"I've starved for you since you left," she told him. "Are you hungry for me?"

"Yes! God, yes!"

"You're hungry?" This time her voice was a bit louder and its tone had changed.

"What did you say?" He panted.

The knock that rattled his door made his eyes burst open. "I said-I'm making breakfast, are you hungry?"

He looked around the room, positive he could still feel Sara lying between his legs and as he looked down at himself, there was no disguising the state his dream had him in.

"Grissom!" She said more insistently this time after another knock then the door was pushed open. She moved to the bottom of his bed as she looked down at him with an amused smile. "Well, good morning to you, too, Dr. Grissom."

She chuckled then turned and retreated back out of the door, leaving him to his discomfort. Dammit! She was going to be the death of him!

Sara went back to the kitchen and finished preparing her breakfast of French toast with whipped cream and blueberries and a cup of tea. She really hadn't intended to wake him before she left for work, but as she was heading back to the bathroom for the second time already that morning, she could hear muffled sounds coming from within his bedroom. She paused long enough to make out a few words such as "do it" and "yes" and it moved her to put her ear to the door. After a few more sounds which included her name along with a request for her to do more, she started knocking.

The hell with him! She thought as she rapped her hand against the wood. She went to bed with images of that man lying across the hall and all night the only comfort she could find was the occasional squeezing of her legs to try to curb the sensations he was creating. If "she" couldn't find release—he couldn't either and she certainly wasn't going to allow him to use her as a catalyst to push him over some erotic edge. Bull! If she had to suffer—so did he!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"What the hell did she think she was doing? I'm a forty-one-year-old man, for Chrissakes! You don't just walk in on a forty-one-year-old man when he's sleeping like that! What if I'd had been "doing something?" Not that I was in the habit of "doing that," he thought as he lay stiff as a board on his bed. "But I "could have been!" He thought irritably. "And I'd have every right to!" He closed his eyes on that thought. "Well, maybe not "every" right. This was, after all, "her" apartment. You just don't go into someone's home and jack off. Not that I would have," he thought again as he waited for his erection to ease up some. "But I "could have been!"

"Hey! Are you going to stay in there all day? Or come out for some breakfast?" Sara called from the other side of the door.

"Oh, sure—"now" she stays on her side of the door; when she's probably standing out there with a mouth full of some kind of breakfast commodity, but not when I'm in here dreaming that she has her mouth full of something else. No—just barge right in then and find what she may!"

"I'm coming," he grumbled as he rolled into a sitting position but quickly regretted his comment when he heard her start giggling.

"Oh, good, because, after all, I've been eating for the last five minutes so Id hate to have you sleep right through the entire experience. What fun would that be?"

He listened to her walk away as he grabbed his pants and pulled them on. Socks were left off as he sauntered into the kitchen to find her sitting at the counter, tackling what smelled to be the most wonderful French toast he had ever had the fortune to come across.

"Good morning," he said with even less enthusiasm than before.

"Good morning, yourself. Get a cup of coffee," she told him. "The cups are up there. There are two extra slices of French toast on the counter beneath the cupboard. The whipped cream and blueberries are in the refrigerator. It isn't t quite as entertaining as flying lobsters—but it's rather tasty if I say so, myself. But, if you're hungry for anything else, you'll just have to rummage."

"This is fine."

He poured a cup of coffee then turned and looked at her as he leaned against the sink. "Is she aware that her breasts are larger than I remember them? Does she know that they're pressing against the front of her blouse and separating the cloth; pressing against the buttons that seem to want to pop off their threads at any moment so they may reveal themselves more fully to me in their magnificent splendor? How can she sit there, shoveling bite after bite of French toast into her mouth, between those luscious lips and bite it with those gapped front teeth and still manage to make me twitch inside my damned boxers?" He wondered to himself. He watched as a small gob of whipped cream slipped off her fork and landed below her lip, prompting her to slide her tongue out to pull it back into her hot mouth; that heavenly tongue and mouth that did so much to him only a few minutes ago while he was sleeping. The next fork of food carried some blueberries covered in the white mixture and he watched as two of them slid off the utensil and landed on the top of her chest, then with an agonizingly slow slide, made their way down her warm flesh that was already melting the whipped cream before burying themselves between those golden mounds of pure delight.

He wasn't a man known for ogling women, but for the life of him, he couldn't seem to remove his gaze. He watched as she grabbed her napkin and rolled her eyes at her lack of dexterity before wiping at the cream spread across her chest.

"I can't believe how clumsy I am," she said as she put her napkin back down, completely forfeiting the two plump blueberries lodged between her breasts.

He took a deep breath. "What am I supposed to do now? Do I ignore it? If I do, it could prove to be embarrassing to Sara when she finally did find the berries. If I don't, I'm not quite sure how to go about informing her," he thought, so as was his usual custom when unsure about his direction—he stumbled.

"You—uh—um." He pointed toward her with one hand as he held his coffee with his other. "You've got. . ."

"Yes?" She looked up at him in question.

"Between your. . .I mean, down your. . .um. . .when the cream slid out of your mouth. . .I mean, when you dropped the cream, it. . .um. . .went down. . ."

"Grissom!" She stood up and moved to stand in front of him in an exasperated manner with her hands on her hips. The effect was that it spread the cloth across her breasts even more and he could look right down at the two perfect beads of fruit that were lodged between her two perfect globes of pleasure. He, for some inexplicable reason, couldn't seem to take his eyes off of them. "What—are you trying to say?"

"The berries are. . .um. . .they fell down your shirt."

She looked down the front of her shirt. "Where? I don't want it to stain."

"No. Not-the outside. They're. . .in. . .there."

She looked at him blankly then down the front of her blouse. "Oh."

She grabbed her napkin and started pushing it down, between her perfect mounds of heaven and he felt himself tighten even more as she stood no more than two feet from him.

"You might. . .not want to shove it down there like that. You might squash the berries and then it will stain your. . .um. . .brazier."

She looked up at him with her fingers still between her breasts. "My what? My "brazier?" No one calls it a brazier anymore, Grissom."

"Okay, then down your. . .under garment."

"You can say "bra," Griss. It isn't a dirty word, ya know."

"Does it matter what I call it? You're going to stain it if you keep pressing against them like that."

"Pressing against what? My tits or the blueberries?"

"The berries," he said stiffly. "They will stain your. . ."

"You can't say it—can you?" She smirked as she removed her hand and gawked at him. "One of the top CSIs in the country—and you can't say "bra."

He looked at her and raised a brow then slowly turned and placed his cup of coffee on the counter. He took the napkin from her hand and stepped closer then lifted it to the top of her breasts where she gave him a "go ahead, I dare you" look, making him slide his fingers down between the warm flesh that was making him want to do anything but simply use his fingers on them. He gently probed, allowing himself as much pleasure as he could handle at that moment as he retrieved the two, still plump berries.

"Your lost treasure, my dear." He handed her the napkin with the offending fruit and watched the slow smile cross her face before she actually chuckled at him.

"Now, see? That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"If I had asked you to reach in and get them out so I wouldn't squash them—you would've been falling all over yourself to get back to the bedroom and hide and probably choked on any words you would've tried to utter on the way." She tossed the napkin in the trash and turned back to her meal where she picked up a fork full of cream and held it in front of her mouth then slipped her tongue out to retrieve it in the most amazing fashion he had ever witnessed. Very vivid images of what that tongue could do rocked him. "See? Not so bad?"

He watched as she turned and walked back to her bedroom and even if she was beginning to waddle in the slightest way, it was turning him to mush. He turned around so fast he nearly knocked the mug of coffee off the counter that he had been reaching for.

"Damn," he breathed as he grabbed it and steadied it. "What the hell's wrong with me? She's got me so damned riled up that you'd think I hadn't had sex in years! Wait. Oh. I guess I "didn't" have sex in years. But still! It never bothered me this much before. Jesus, I want nothing more than to grab that pert ass of hers and tip her upside down on the sofa and hold her ankles in the air as I plunged so deep that she'd squeal with pleasure. Oh, Jesus," the thought of her making "any noise" with pleasure hit him directly in the groin like a lightning bolt and made his knees week. He closed his eyes in complete frustration.

He held onto the edge of the sink for support and could hear her padding up behind him. He didn't know why she would have taken off her shoes, but he didn't ponder on it very long as he felt her hands slid up under his shirt, over his back and onto his shoulders.

"I guess I stained my shirt after all," she cooed against his ear and the sensation of her breathy whisper made him even tighter.

"I'm sorry," he said very weakly as he stayed standing as he was with his eyes closed. "I should've been more careful."

"Yes, you should have." She stepped up even closer and pressed her protruding belly into the bottom of his back as her fingers found their way around to the front of him where they danced over the muscles of his chest then down, ever so lightly, over his stomach to his abdomen where she found the top of his jeans and slid inside to barely touch the hair she found growing there. "If you had been more careful, we wouldn't have "this" little obstacle, now would we?"

"I—I didn't mean that," he said as his breath caught in his throat.

Her light touch, back and forth, over his coarse hair was driving him insane. He could feel himself swelling and if it hadn't been for the obstruction of his jeans, his erection would be right up there, past where her fingers were taking such an inordinate amount of pleasure in playing.

"Then, what did you mean?" Her mouth was much closer to his ear now and he felt her lips touch him. She drew his lobe between them and gently sucked then bit equally as gently before sucking again.

"Your clothes. I should've been more careful with your clothes."

"Oh, I took care of that," she breathed against him. "They're in the laundry."

"Then what are you wearing?" He began to turn around but she didn't let him, instead she used her free hand to pull his tee-shirt up until he assisted her in taking it off, then she pressed herself more fully against him and he could feel her bare stomach and breasts as they pressed against his back. "Jesus, Sara."

"Do you like this?" Her other hand moved around him until it was joining the one still stroking the top of his pubic area. "Do you want me to continue?"

"Yes. God, yes."

"Then show me. . ."

She didn't even have time to complete her sentence before he was opening his jeans and moved her hand to push it down inside. He covered her hand with his as he wrapped her slender fingers around his immense thickness and pulled him free of his constraints.

"Like that," he choked.

"Now what? Hmm?" She pulled his ear lobe between her lips again and ran her tongue over it.

He covered her hand again and started moving it up and down his shaft, showing her the pressure and speed that was giving him the most pleasure. He had to part his legs in order to keep his balance as she pressed up against him from behind and stroked him. Soon, he released her hand as he grabbed onto the edge of the sink again, allowing her to work the most sensational magic on him.

"Hey, Griss! I've got a doctor's appointment today. Would you be interested in going along? I mean—if you want to." Sara's voice broke through to him and his eyes snapped open. He spun around toward where she was standing in the kitchen doorway, still wearing the same clothes she had been wearing when she went into her bedroom a few minutes before. She looked at him with scrutiny then let her eyes wander down over him as she placed her hand on her belly. "Jesus, Grissom! Do you always walk around with a perpetual erection? The only time I remember you being in this kind of shape was the night we made this little bug."

"I'm sorry! I—I. . ." His cheeks burned with embarrassment. What was he doing? Standing in her kitchen fantasizing about her jacking him off! What the hell was he? Fourteen years old? He grabbed his coffee and bolted past her to his room. Dammit!

Sara watched him disappear behind his closed door and wondered just what he was going to do in there! "He better not think he was going to go "service" himself while I'm out here so damned horny I could go completely insane with need! No frickin' way!" She turned, ready charge up to his door and demand to be let in but stopped when she saw him come back out of his room with a hand full of clean clothes and disappear into her bathroom.

"Oh. That's better. A cold shower wouldn't hurt him. Well, yeah, maybe it would for a little while, but he deserved it. Sitting in a fancy French restaurant with his fancy little whore, Dr. Miller! Okay, maybe she wasn't a whore—and by the looks of her, she wasn't. She looked so tightly wound that he probably wouldn't have been able to pry her frickin' legs open. Hee-hee! But, still! It's the idea! And all 'I' can get out of this guy that's French is imitation French toast! AND I had to make it myself! Fucker! Go take your damned shower and leave me out here hornier than hell! See what I care! I hope your prick shrivels up and drops off!. No—wait. No, not that. I'm hoping to see more of that. Okay, then—well, I just hope it's really painful when that cold water hits it! Hee-hee!" She took another step into the kitchen and got another dollop of whipped cream on her finger that she promptly licked off and another hee-hee escaped her. Oh, hell. She was beginning to feel good about this.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"So how are you feeling this month, Sara?" The obstetrician approached her with a tape measure and waited until Sara lowered her maternity pants so he could measure the size of her abdomen.

"Oh, just peachy," she murmured.

"Is something wrong?"

"Yeah. My life." She lifts herself up on her elbows as she looks at the doctor. "Is it true that it's harder to have a baby if you don't "stretch" the birth canal?"

"What?" He chuckled as he wrote her measurement.

"You know—sex. Is it better if you have sex while you're pregnant?"

"Why? Are you afraid you're going to shrink before you go into labor?" He chuckled again.

"Look! I can switch to a female obstetrician damned fast! So, don't push my buttons! A female doctor wouldn't think it was funny!"

"No, Sara," he said indulgently, as if he had heard it all before. "You aren't going to shrink if you don't have sex. I mean, not significantly enough to make it one bit harder to deliver a child than if you did."

"So, if I had the opportunity to. . .would it hurt?"

"No," he said as he came back and urged her to lie flat again then started probing her abdomen. "It shouldn't hurt. If it does then call us and make an appointment. That could mean you have an infection or. . ."

"No! I don't mean it that way! I mean—if I had the opportunity to do it—would it be "alright?"

"Oh—yes. Of course. Married couples have sex all the time, ya know."

"Oh, shut up," she said miserably. "Now you're patronizing me."

He laughed at her again. "No, Sara. Really. It's become quite common for couples to engage in intercourse up until the day she goes into labor. Sometimes it's even "suggested" as a stimulant to help labor begin."

"Oh—and does that mean if I do it "too" much that I'll go into early labor? I mean, I don't want to have the baby prematurely."

"You should be fine. You should be able to monitor it yourself. If you feel it's too much—then it's probably too much."

"I don't know," she said as she sighed and shook her head doubtfully. "The way I've been feeling since he showed up, I don't think I could ever get my fill. I'm afraid I'm going to go at him so much the baby will come out saddle sore." She looked up at him again. "Are you sure it can't do any harm? I mean. . .this baby's father is rather. . .large. For all we know, we could be giving the baby brain damage from repeatedly poking it in the head."

The doctor went to wash his hands as he continued to smile at her. "Now, Sara. You're a well educated woman. You know all of this isn't possible. What's wrong?"

"I think I'm some kind of a freakish pervert," she said quietly as he moved to sit at the desk.

"Why?"

"The baby's father finally found out about it and has sort of moved into my apartment. I've been going nuts with him in the next room. All I want to do is jump on him and do things you wouldn't believe. I don't even want to go to work. Just do it in his bedroom, and then in "my" bedroom, then in the living room on the couch, out on the kitchen counter, in the bathroom, on the sink, on the chair in the living room, in the car. . ."

"And how often have you actually managed this spectacular feat?" He asked with amusement.

"Not once. He only arrived last night." She leaned forward and whispered, "but he keeps getting erections! God! Just the thought of him makes me want to go out to the waiting room and . . . well, let's just say there would be a lot of women putting their hands over their children's eyes."

"It sounds like your hormones are acting very normal for your pregnancy. It isn't uncommon for some women's sexual drive to become over-stimulated. And it sounds as if this man is more than capable of fulfilling your desires. Why don't you go home and just let nature take its course?"

"Because he doesn't remember ever touching me before."

"Still hasn't remembered yet, huh?" He shrugged his shoulders as he got to his feet and assisted Sara to the floor. "I say go for it, Sara. Who knows, maybe you'll make something in his memory click and everything will fall into place for him."

She watched him exit the room, thinking that was much easier said than done. At the rate she was going now, she'd have to tie him down to the chair and straddle him! 'Oh, damn,' she thought as she started putting her shoes back on. 'that's a thought. Getting him on the chair and straddling him. Man!' She walked out to get her next appointment and looked at how Grissom sat in the waiting room looking completely out of sorts. He tried to make it look like he was reading a magazine but something about the way his eyes kept wandering to the hall where she was standing told her he wanted nothing more than to have her join him and get out of there.

"Dr. Grissom!" Sara watched with wide eyes as her obstetrician approached Grissom with his hand extended. "It's wonderful to finally meet you."

"Uh. . .thank you." Grissom got to his feet and shook the man's hand.

"I've heard a lot about you?"

"You have?"

"Sara admires you very much as a colleague. She tells me you're a leader in your field."

"Oh." He sounded relieved. "I think Sara may be exaggerating a bit."

"I'm sending Sara for an ultrasound next month. I think it would be a great time for you to meet your son or daughter." He stopped as if a thought occurred to him. "Wait—would you like to hear its heartbeat? I can take her back in and we can listen to it."

"No—no. I'm sure Sara wants to go home. I don't want to bother her."

"Oh, I'm sure it's no bother. I'll just put her in the collections room and have a nurse come in with the monitor. It will only take a few minutes."

"But. . .but. . .," Grissom seemed nervous as he looked up at Sara and she stopped in front of him.

"It's okay, Griss. If you don't want to hear your baby's heart beat—you don't have to. I can understand this is all very new to you. It isn't like "you've" been lying around for six months getting sick every time "you" smelled food. Especially French cuisine. I bet that didn't affect your dinner at all the whole time you sat with Terri, just waiting for her to satisfy your elegant little appetite. And you weren't reminded daily of the baby's existence whenever someone would come into your home and load up the IV hooked into your arm, keeping you prisoner in your own apartment. After all, how could you maintain your carefree image with Terri if you were stuck at home all the time? And like now, it really isn't as if "you" have to get up and go to the toilet every hour because someone's inside your body squeezing your bladder as if they were playing the accordion. You're much too concerned with the prospect of squeezing something other than your bladder. I mean—it's really all very understandable."

Grissom looked helplessly at the doctor who was, as usual, amused by the situation. "You'd like to go listen to that now?"

"Yes. Please," Grissom told him as they started back the hall and a nurse took Sara to a small room. He looked up at the doctor before they went inside with her. "She—she seems a little cranky, more than I remember her being before she was pregnant."

"Yes, well. Sometimes that happens."

"I'm hoping her mood will lift. It can't be good for the baby, all this—stress. I mean, I know I'm responsible for a great deal of it, but. . ." He looked up at the doctor again. "Is there going to be a flip-side to this. I'm hoping she doesn't stay in a dark mood for the next three months."

"Oh," the doctor chuckled as he gestured for Grissom to go inside the room with the others. "I don't think you'll have to worry about that. When the time is right, she's going to be "very" affable."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"That was—interesting," Grissom finally said as he sat in the car next to Sara on the way back to her apartment.

"Hmm," she said absently.

"You don't find it interesting?"

"Of course I find it interesting. I just don't find it as. . .extraordinary as you. I've been hearing its heartbeat for the last two months."

"Oh." He looked at how she sat in her seat with her seatbelt around her, almost framing her pregnancy. The sight of her swollen stomach jerking suddenly opened his eyes wider and when he realized it was accompanied with a quiet "Oomph," he moved his gaze up to her face. "Are you alright?"

"Junior is evidently going to be a soccer player," she breathed.

He looked back to her stomach to watch as it jerked again. "Or perhaps a ballerina?"

"Ballet?" She glanced over at him with a smirk. "Let's just say it's a kicker."

She pulled into her parking spot and turned off the ignition before turning to look at him. "I'm hungry."

"It's after lunch time. Do you have something planned? I mean, I could make something—or run out to bring something back."

"I have something in mind that I'm exceptionally hungry for."

Her eyes seemed to brighten as she looked at him then turned and got out of the car. She waited for him to join her at the entrance to the building then gave him a sideward smile before continuing at a hurried pace up the stairs to her apartment. He followed her inside where she dropped her bag on the floor and went straight into the kitchen.

"More whipped cream and blueberries?" He asked as he stood on the other side of the counter and watched her move to her refrigerator.

"No. Not whipped cream." She turned away from the freezer, holding a tub of vanilla ice cream then went to the cupboard where she retrieved a bag of potato chips. She proceeded to crush the chips against the counter then emptied them into a large bowl before placing a good amount of the ice cream on top. She put her efforts into the microwave and allowed it to melt just enough to soften it then mixed it together. He watched as she stopped directly in front of him and his eyes dropped to the bowl in her hands then followed a large spoonful directly to her mouth. "I really love this stuff!"

His eyes widened as he watched how she forced the words around the mass of food before chewing and promptly swallowing then wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at him, but instead of offering him any, she turned and went to the chair where she took a seat.

"Shouldn't you be eating something more substantial than ice cream and potato chips?" He asked with a raised brow.

"I—I ate some fruit this morning," she said as she looked down at the bowl she was holding. "And there was egg on the French toast—so that's protein."

"And a lot of fat and cholesterol."

"I'm sorry." She looked at him through eyes that suddenly looked like a scolded child's. She swallowed with difficulty as she placed the bowl onto the counter then slowly got to her feet and walked past him. "I won't offend your senses any longer with my vulgarity."

"Sara," he called after her as he watched her walk away. Damn, she certainly is sensitive.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Sara entered her bedroom and started stripping off her clothing. After everything that had happened that morning, the last thing she expected was for him to tell her she was fat! "No kidding! I'm six months pregnant with your kid! Jerk!" She flung her blouse onto her hamper with such force that it nearly knocked it over. "Maybe if you could've gotten Miss Tight-Ass Miller to spread her frickin' legs—she'd be fat by now too! No—not her! Not the blonde goddess who's too pure to impregnate! Just me—the common investigator who practically yelled, "Come on down! The water's fine!" Sara closed her eyes in frustration, knowing that the truth was, given the chance, she'd be yelling it at him again in a millisecond—if he'd only hear her and not be such a dunce about it. She looked in her dresser drawer and pondered on what she wanted to wear. It was only lunch time and she was ready to jump back into a pair of lounge pants and a tee-shirt. But then another thought occurred to her. She bet Terri Miller never let him see her in lounge pants and a tee-shirt—so she looked for something more "suitable" and wondered just what Miss Bitch would wear in the privacy of her own home. "Probably a chastity belt," she thought with a giggle. "Well, I'm certainly not going to go out and buy a chastity belt. Can you even buy such things?" Sara removed her jeans and went to her closet, now standing only in her bra and panties as she looked through her sparse wardrobe. "How dare he criticize her choice of snack food? Maybe I should've put alcohol on my ice cream then sat it on fire—would that have been more acceptable to Dr. Grissom? I'm sure that's the kind of dessert you ordered in your fancy French restaurant with "Ter-ri!" She grabbed another pair of jeans then went back to her dresser where she went through her top drawer and found an old gag gift some of her female coworkers had given her years ago during a "Secret Valentine" exchange. It was a white satin camisole with lace across the bodice with spaghetti straps. "Ah, perfect! Remove the bra and a simple white blouse over top and it should do nicely."

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Grissom looked back at the bowl. He hesitantly lifted the spoon and tasted it and lifted a brow upon deciding it wasn't bad after all. He picked up the entire bowl and moved back the hallway and stopped at her door. He was going to knock but decided she'd probably send him away anyway, so he just pushed the door open. The sight of her standing in the middle of the room, wearing only white panties and a matching camisole that should have cascaded down over her abdomen but now with it's increase in size, stretched across it, stopped him in his tracks. He watched as she turned toward him and held her white blouse in front of herself then looked away. If he hadn't been looking at the size of her abdomen so closely, he would have noticed the pain that flashed through her eyes, then the way her lip trembled. But he didn't notice. Instead, he seemed unable to stop himself as he took several more steps toward her, absolutely mesmerized by the sight of his child expanding this gorgeous woman's body. What he didn't expect was a slap in the face with the sleeve of the blouse she was holding.

"Would you stop staring!" Sara blurted.

"I'm—I'm sorry!" He looked up at her with wide eyes, flinching when she hit him in the shoulder with the cloth this time. "I didn't mean. . .it's just that. . ."

"Yeah! I know! I'm not as slim and trim as your troll back in Vegas!"

"My what?" He asked in confusion.

"You know! Troll! Those little dolls that always have their hair pulled so tight it looks like it's gonna rip right out!" When he still didn't know what she was talking about she slapped him in the arm with the blouse again. "Oh! Just shut up! I know I'm fat!"

His eyes wandered over her and he could feel himself getting tight immediately. "You're not fat."

"That's not what you said out there."

"I'm sorry if it seemed that way," he told her as he let his eyes wander over her long legs again and wasn't able to stop the soft moan that escaped him. "But I certainly didn't mean you were fat."

She stepped closer to him, this time she reached out and put her finger under his chin, tipping his head up until he wasn't looking at her legs any longer, but at her face. "Is that why you brought that in here with you? To "make" me fat?"

"No!" He said as he looked at her in frustration. "I brought it in for you to eat. I tasted it. It isn't bad—well, I mean, it isn't the best food in the world for you right now—but it tastes okay. No wonder you like it. Here. Take some."

He couldn't stop the soft smile as she watched him with suspicion then opened her mouth as he spooned the nearly completely melted ice cream/potato chip mixture into her mouth. His smile broadened as she closed her eyes and allowed herself to savor the taste of it before looking at him again. She put her blouse on the dresser then reached for the bowl but when he tried to step back, she grabbed his arm.

"No. Sit down. We'll share." She told him, looking much less upset than she had when he first entered the room.

He looked around, not finding anywhere suitable for him to sit and yet have her close enough to actually share the dish. She evidently caught his questioning search and rolled her eyes then took his hand and pulled him over until he was sitting on the edge of her bed and she was sitting next to him. She dipped the spoon into the dish and put it to his lips which he obligingly took.

"Are you sure we shouldn't get another spoon?" He asked and she again rolled her eyes at him.

"Why? Are you afraid you'll catch my germs."

"No," he said quietly. "It's just that. . .well, sharing a spoon is rather. . .intimate. . .don't you think?"

"Believe me, we've been much more intimate than sharing utensils—and I've already caught one of your germs." She patted her stomach then brought another spoon full to his lips. He opened his mouth but just as she was about to put it inside, she jerked and it slid off the spoon and down over his shirt. "Oops."

"Uh. . .Sara, this isn't working."

"Of course it's working. The baby kicked and I jerked. I'll be more careful next time. Here, hold this." She handed him the bowl and moved to her knees in front of him as she started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Sara?" He covered her hand with his.

"It will stain." She pulled the shirt off his arms as he continued to watch her, then he noticed the tiny smirk on her lips before she looked up at him and grabbed onto his tee-shirt. "It got on this too."

"I'll go back to my room and get another shirt," he explained but she held onto his shirt and didn't let him rise.

"Oh, come on, Grissom. Just take the damned shirt off."

"I'm not sitting in here without a shirt."

"Why not? I'm here without a shirt—or jeans."

"It's "your" bedroom. And you "do" have a shirt on—of sorts. A type of undershirt."

"A camisole."

"Whatever."

"I'll take it off if you want?" She smiled at him so brightly he had a hard time not smiling back as he tried to remain adult about this.

"What is this? A game of "you show me yours and I'll show you mine?"

"Can't you just relax long enough to eat some damned ice cream?"

He looked at her suspiciously. "Yes."

"Good!" She grabbed his shirt again and this time yanked it up over his head. "Then take off the shirt. Believe me—a naked chest is not going to send me into a sexual frenzy." She helped him remove his arms then got back down to her knees and looked at his bare chest with wide eyes. "Whoa!"

"Sara!"

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding!" She laughed at him then took the ice cream back again and took a bite for herself, again talking to him through a mouth full of food. "You really need to lighten up a bit, Grissom."

"I'm light enough," he told her then jerked with surprise as she dropped the next portion onto his chest, bringing another little tee-hee from her before she moved her eyes up to his apologetically.

"I'm so sorry. Would you believe the baby kicked again? This baby is enjoying the ice cream as much as we are." She slid her finger beneath the blob of creaminess and slid it upward until she had it removed, then she held it in front of his lips. He hesitated a long moment. "You better get it or it's going to slide off again!"

He opened his mouth and she inserted it inside, then it was time for her share. He wasn't surprised when this slipped off the spoon as well but frankly, he surprised himself with the words that slipped out of his mouth as he watched the ice cream slide down between her luscious breasts.

"Kid's kicking up a damned storm," he breathed as he continued to watch it as she slowly got to her feet, put down the bowl, then removed her camisole. He swallowed with difficulty as she stood bare-breasted in front of him and he watched as the white cream was sliding between her breasts and down toward her swollen abdomen. He slowly let his gaze move back up her until she raised one brow at him.

"Hungry?"

He grabbed onto her hips and pulled her close so swiftly she had to grab onto his shoulders for balance but he didn't care at this point. He quickly removed the ice cream from its landing place on her belly then worked his way up between her two globes. At this point, he didn't recall how he ended up on his back with her on top of him as he wrapped his arms around her waist and she held her weight off of him with her arms. All that mattered was that she was lying on top of him with her legs resting between his and providing an excellent amount of pressure against his throbbing need. He reached for a single breast and maneuvered it until he had full access to her ripe nipple and he could hear her cry out as he began to suckle. She evidently lost all the strength in her arms as she dropped down beside him and he turned with her, continuing to feast at her breasts; feeding the hunger he had been feeling ever since he had left Sara six months earlier. He suddenly couldn't seem to get enough as he lifted himself over her, straddling her as he pulled her more fully onto the bed then dropped next to her again. He looked into a set of brown eyes that were open wide in anticipation and all pretenses were lost as he started to kiss her perfect lips. His tongue slid inside, immediately seeking that gap he had dreamed about; the sensation sending a jolt through him so strong that he moaned with it.

She started to lift herself and he watched as she looked at him with concern but upon seeing him smile, she came back and kissed him again. He wanted her on top of him so he pulled her over and when he still didn't get enough, he moved his legs over and wrapped them around hers, tugging her with them until she was between his legs.

She started moving her kiss over his face and down his neck, but when she tried to move her body away from his, he grunted his disapproval.

"Don't move. Stay—right—there." His hand went to her behind and the texture of satin on a perfect buttock brought another groan of pure desire from him. His other hand joined the first one as he took his pleasure in the smoothness of her body as well as the pressure he was providing against his groin as he rocked against her. All he needed was for her to resume her kiss and he knew he would be lost. Ahhh, yeah, there she was as she leaned on her elbows and ran her fingers through his hair. Her lips were tugging at his and then he pressed his tongue into her mouth where it dueled with hers. Pure perfection. But then she was leaving him, moving down to his neck and off his body again. "Sara?"

"I've been waiting for this too long!" Her words vibrated on his throat before she moved on to his shoulders and then his chest.

"Waited. . .for what?" He breathed as she took her time about using her tongue and mouth on the muscles of his chest, but soon he was finding out as she moved on to his stomach. "Ah, Jesus, Sara!"

She was tugging at his pants and her inexperience at freeing a man in full erection revealed itself so he brushed her hands aside and he opened his pants for her and raised his hips, pushing them over his hips and down his thighs as he toed off his shoes. Somehow he knew this was something he wanted to remember for the rest of his life and he gloried in the thought that he was the only man she had ever done this to. He watched her pull the slacks from his legs then move back until she was kneeling between his legs. There was something about the sight of her kneeling there, swollen with his child as she wore only the briefest of white panties that was setting him on fire. When she moved her gaze up to him and slid her tongue over her lips, he groaned his desire for her again.

"You'll tell me if you aren't enjoying it—won't you?" She whispered and the words sent a feeling of deja vu through him and he pictured her in his hotel suite on her knees before him as he pulled her to her feet and slowly pressed his girth inside of her. The memory of her tightness and slight obstruction had him nearly panting as he continued to watch her at the end of the bed. Jesus! He was remembering! He even remembered pushing her onto the small table as soon as they entered the suite and what he had done to her there.

He gave a low, throaty chuckle. "Impossible, Sara. You are exquisite! Your innocence is intoxicating. Anything you do will be perfect."

He watched as she looked back at his size, knowing she was finding it a bit intimidating and still he could see the want in her eyes. When she moved down on him and took him between her lips he fought to control his hips so he wouldn't buck against her. He allowed her to investigate him and with each movement she created a piece of heaven for him, then she moved back to his tip and went down on him, stroking him and he could feel the way her teeth scraped and rubbed. He wanted nothing more than to grab onto her soft hair and ease this intense desire she was creating, but he knew he couldn't. This was all too new for her, and he wasn't even sure if he wanted to take it to completion this way. He didn't want to frighten her.

He began to writhe on the bed as she continued to work her magic. The longer she worked with him, the more intense his sensations. He could feel her curiosity growing with each movement, each investigation of his body that her mouth and hands took, then when she started to moan her desire against him and he could feel the vibrations from her throat going clear through to his soul, he knew he had better stop. He placed his hands on each side of her face and pulled her up, smiling at the disappointment she showed.

"You—didn't like it," she whispered as she spread her length next to his.

"You said that last time. I told you then—you're wonderful. But I need to . . ."

"You remember?" She lifted herself on elbow as she looked down at him.

"Mmm," he mumbled as he moved his head until he pulled a plump nipple between his lips and began to suckle again, this time pushing her onto her back as he leaned over and slid his hand down over her stomach, then to her hip. She whimpered as he traced his fingers over her thigh, then up its inside where he pressed her legs apart and found the treasure he was searching for. He slid his fingers over her length, finding the wetness he was seeking then alternating between circling the hard bead and then going lower and teasing her entrance with his fingertip. She moved her hips beneath his hand and he knew she was seeking more, so the tip entered and he inserted first one, then two fingers. Her tightness astounded him and he wondered how he was going to manage to fit inside, but knowing he had accomplished such a feat before encouraged him. He worked with her until she was rolling her hips in search of something more then he lifted his head and smiled down at her. "Are you ready?"

She quickly nodded and he slid on top of her, holding himself up and away from her so he wouldn't harm the baby. He lifted himself until he was sitting on his feet as he reached down and pulled her panties from her long legs; one by one until he lowered them to lie open across his thighs as he moved up against her apex. She watched him as carefully as he watched her as he took himself in his hand and moved until he was probing her entrance, then as he held onto her hip and guided himself with his other, he slowly pressed against her. As suspected, he was having trouble and he watched her eyes widen and then close against any discomfort. She opened her eyes again and upon his questioning gaze she nodded.

"Go on," she breathed. "Don't stop."

He pressed again, a little harder and managed to gain entrance then he grasped onto her hips with both hands and started the counter-pressure he was seeking. Inch by slow inch he worked inside, pulling out each time to regain entry a little farther until finally he was completely against her and he leaned over and tenderly kissed her lips as he allowed her to adjust to him. He had never had the obstacle between himself and another woman the way he had now, so at times he had to control his movements so he wouldn't harm either Sara or their child, but he soon found the rhythm that was satisfying them both. He held himself above her on his elbow of one arm as he stroked her face with his other hand and kissed her.

"God," he said between plunges. "How could I have missed this so much without remembering what I was missing?" He felt himself begin to tighten as her fingernails slid over his back and along his sides.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted this, Gil."

He lifted his head and looked down at her, still making love with his body as he gave her a lopsided smile. "You called me Gil. You called me that the last time."

"Because you told me to," she breathed as he moved within her and her dazed eyes watched him in return. "You liked it."

"Mmmm," he groaned as he tried to prolong their lovemaking. "Then what would you like me to call you?"

She smiled. "Your sex slave?"

He watched as her smile vanished and she began pressing against him, finding another area that he was stimulating and suddenly she growled and pressed her head back against the pillow.

"You okay?" He breathed as stroked the way she was reacting to.

"Oh, Gil—right there! Oh, harder-there!" She hugged him against her tightly and started to spasm around him.

This was all he could handle and all he needed to allow himself the release he had been trying so desperately to hold in check. But when it came, he wasn't certain if he hurt her or not because he lost all sense of control as he moved within her.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Sara lay on her back as ecstasy washed over her. She had done it! He had done it! Hee-hee! She covered her mouth immediately as she looked over at the man who was lying next to her, hoping he didn't see or hear the little laugh that had escaped her. He lay on his side where he had maneuvered himself after he had completed his—experience, and the sight of him looking completely sated—and naked—and gorgeous, next to her brought her smile back. Tee-hee! She covered her mouth again, but this time his eyes popped open as he looked at her.

"I hope—you aren't laughing about my performance," he said dryly.

This time she didn't try to hide her mega-watt smile as she looked at him. "What? No!" She couldn't stop the next giggle that escaped.

He lifted himself on elbow and looked down at her. "You "are" laughing."

She straightened her expression as best she could as she stared at him. "No! I'm not! Really! Hee-hee!" She covered her mouth again. "Okay—maybe a little."

She smiled widely at him as she looked up at him.

"What—may I ask—is so damned funny?"

"Nothing!" She said with a bright smile. "Really! Nothing!"

"Sara?"

"Well—I mean—I wanted to—but you didn't—and we did." She sobered immediately as she looked at him as words rushed from her mouth. "Hey! "Why" didn't you want to? Can we do it again?"

Humor now spread through his eyes as he watched her. "I don't see how it can be avoided now, my dear."

"Do you "want" to avoid it?"

"No," he told her with a gentle smile. "But I wish we'd taken it more slowly. Although I am glad I remembered our last encounter. It helps "this," He reached down and put his hand on her abdomen. "seem more real."

"Are you upset because we went "so fast?" I mean, do you think I'm trashy because I gave in so easily?"

"Gave in?" He chuckled. "You mean "dove" in, don't you?"

She raised herself on elbow as she looked down at him. "Listen, jerk! I might be a little easier than what you're used to—but that doesn't make me a tramp or anything!"

"I understand this," he said as he tried to sober and reached over to pull her more closely to him. "Kiss me, Sara."

"Why?" She asked with a raised brow as she hovered over him.

"Now you need to ask "why?" Because I want you to kiss me right now, that's why."

"Oh," she smiled then leaned down.

"Oh," he repeated and she placed her lips on his.

He rolled onto his back and pulled her even closer as her hand went to his chest for balance, then began taking pleasure in his form. His muscles were enticing her to investigate even farther and soon her hand was dipping down over his tummy. When it came in contact with the tip of his hardened erection, she pulled back and looked at him through wide eyes.

"Already?"

"Mmm," he told her. "Don't stop now."

"But, is this normal? I mean—I thought last time it was because of the drugs."

"No, it isn't normal—at least not for me. So, if it wasn't the drugs—and it wasn't me—then it must be the woman."

"Oh," she said again as she smiled during her kiss.

But her smile soon dissipated as his glorious hands began moving up over her back and he pulled her until she was completely lying on top of him. She lay with both hands clasping onto his shoulders as she kissed him, flexing against his solid muscles almost like a cat who was being stroked and petted. She loved how he kissed. She loved the way she could lie here all day and just let him kiss her and allow her to kiss him back. She may not have had a lot of experience in complete lovemaking, but she had had her share of kissing—and this guy was an artist! Oh, how he would tug at her lips with his, or even nip at them with his teeth; how he could slip and slide his tongue in all manner of fashions and yet remain gentle; and then how he could turn his tenderness into something more demanding as he moaned and spoke in whispers that had her sighing and her toes curling.

He guided his kisses from her lips down to her neck and when he pulled her up farther on him so he could reach the sensitive area where her neck joined her shoulder, a tiny giggle escaped again and she grabbed her mouth as she pulled her head back and looked at him through wide eyes.

"I'm sorry!" She blurted out, then immediately went back to kissing him but when he went to that spot again, her tiny giggle turned into a full-fledged laugh as she moved her neck away from him again. "Oh, I am SO sorry!"

She looked down to see his eyes dancing back at her as he watched her but he pulled her back toward him and proceeded to try to suck at that very same spot, only to have her shriek and try to squirm away from him. He maintained his investigation of this area until he was lying on top of her and pinned to the mattress. She tried to protect the spot the only way she could think of and she imagined she resembled a turtle as she lay there with both shoulders brought up in a massive shrug-like gesture.

"A little ticklish?" He asked as he raised himself up and smiled down at her.

"I didn't know."

"Come on, put your shoulders down. Relax."

"No!"

"Don't you trust me?" He looked at her through the most sensational blue eyes she had ever seen and she seemed to become mesmerized as she gazed back at him. She slowly started to lower her shoulders as she answered him dreamily.

"Yes."

He was on her in an instant and she was again shrieking as they rolled on the mattress. Finally he was on his back again and she had managed to maneuver herself until she was above him, with a forearm on each side of his head as he laughed at her.

"You shouldn't. Not in cases such as these, anyway," he told her as he held her still by wrapping his legs around hers and holding his arms around her expanded waist.

"Yeah—well, I'm not going to let you near that spot again!"

"You don't have to. Not when you're offering me this, instead."

He lifted his head until he was tugging a ripe nipple into his mouth and he began to suckle her and like a lightning bolt, every tense muscle in her body seemed to relax and melt over him as she groaned deeply. Her hands went into his hair and she wasn't sure if she was holding his mouth against her, or pressing herself against his mouth—all she knew was that she wanted this sensation to go on and on. She was aware of his hands sliding over her back again and then over her rump where they seemed to take an added amount of pleasure in the smoothness of her skin but when his fingers slid down between the crevice she jumped with startled sensation, causing him to chuckle beneath her, even while he continued to stimulate her breasts. He continued his investigation until he had a hand on either thigh and pulled them open, across his abdomen, then he was nudging her with his hardened length and although she had an idea of what he wanted, she was having a hard time maneuvering her body to accomplish it.

"It—won't—go in," she breathed as she held onto him.

"It will. Just relax, honey."

He gently turned with her until she was nearly on her back and he remained between her legs. He moved his kisses back up to her mouth and allowed his hand to roam over her body, from her throat where she apprehensively guarded her newfound "spot," down over her shoulders. He thoroughly investigating her breasts again, then tentatively, yet showing a gentle curiosity regarding her abdomen, and then down, across her hip and lower until he was sliding his finger along the throbbing nub near her center.

She hadn't realized her hands were roaming over his body with just as much interest until her fingers slid down over his hard hip and around to the curly hair that was bedding the massive shaft that was pressed against his abdomen. She felt it almost jump when her slender fingers touched it and she could hear his breathing catch but when she wasn't quite sure what to do with the magnificently hot tool, he moved his hand to cover hers. His fingers showed her digits what to do, how to rub, how to stroke, the amount of pressure and speed that pleased him and before long, she was getting so aroused by what she was doing to him that she was whimpering against his mouth.

"Mmm, Grissom," she whispered. "Please, put it in again."

He moved her onto her back again and positioned himself between her legs as he held himself above her on his hands and knees. When he looked down, his eyes were so intense that she felt the coil in her belly about to spring at any moment. He reached between them again and positioned himself, then forced his eyes closed as a tenseness crossed his features and he slowly pushed inside her sheath. His strokes were slow, yet powerful and as she watched him above her, she hungered for his kiss again. She somehow managed to raise herself on elbows as he continued to move within her and she immediately went to the nipples of his muscled chest. He stopped all movement momentarily as a shudder ran through him, then with one hand, he reached for her and moved her kiss to his lips where he seemed intent upon ravaging her.

"Ah, Jesus, Sara," he moaned against her. "You're pure heaven. But I can't wait any longer."

She nodded her head as she watched him straighten on his knees, without moving from within her, then he put his arms beneath her knees and raised her legs up then grasped onto her hands and started moving much more forcefully than before and at a faster pace. She looked at him, watched the way his muscles worked across his chest as he moved within her and she could feel her sensations turning within her. She began writhing beneath him and he was suddenly stroking against that part of her that had her moaning and begging for more. When he wrapped her one leg around his waist and used his free hand to reach down and start stroking her just above their joining, she thought she was going to go insane with pure gratification. She felt her world exploding and spinning out of control. Her breaths were ragged and as she heard him calling her name in a voice so intense, she realized he was experiencing much the same as she. She could actually feel him releasing himself inside of her as he spasmed within her. The feeling was so intense that she didn't even recall how or when he actually landed on top of her until she started to come back to her senses and heard his heavy breathing next to her ear. She turned her head and started giving him butterfly kisses on the side of his mouth; kisses that took a moment to register through to him until he actually regained control of his breathing and he turned with her, pulling her up against him as he lie on his back and he returned the soft kisses.

She could still feel the tremors going through her as she lay on her side with her belly pressed against his waist and her knee raised up to lie across his thigh.

"No laughing this time?" He asked as he opened one eye and gave her a half-smile. She quickly shook her head no. "Come now—don't tell me I've rendered Sara Sidle speechless."

She raised a brow as she looked at him and was about to protest but he gave a small chuckle and leaned into her, covering her mouth with his again as he slipped his tongue inside, bringing an instant moan from her.

"You can render me speechless anytime you want," she sighed then snuggled a little more closely against him as she let her fingers dance across his tummy.

"I'll remember that next time you want to rip my head off because I hesitate going into the doctor's office with you."

She laughed as she gazed up into his eyes. "Does that mean I can count on a quickie in the doctor's office, next time?"

"If you wait about a half an hour, I might be able to see about that quickie right here." He smiled back at her as he grabbed onto her knee and pulled her more firmly against him.

"I'll take you up on that," she yawned, suddenly feeling very tired, but very content. She was feeling more relaxed than she had been since before he had left San Francisco six months before. The last thing she felt before drifting off to sleep was him turning to face her, kissing her forehead then resting his hand on her stomach.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Grissom held her in his arms. He had trouble wrapping his brain around what had just taken place. He had practically devoured her—and that thought had him beginning to stir again already. Jesus! She was going to think he was some kind of animal if he didn't let her sleep—but man! Even knowing he had just experienced two mind-blowing, earth-shattering bouts of sex, he wanted more. It was only the thought of her needing rest that prevented him from flipping her onto her back and tasting her again.

He had to get that thought out of his head. Now that he'd started remembering things, they were flooding his head at an astronomical speed. Images bombarded his brain of dancing in that bar and wanting her so badly that he had to fight his way outside or he would have started grinding against her right in the middle of the dance floor. He remembered rushing her to the car, trying to take her on the back of it then when that didn't work out, trying to actually start something while she was driving home! That was so completely unlike him. He remembered getting her inside the hotel and not being able to wait a moment longer as he shoved her on the small table and got to his knees before her. The memory was so strong that he could actually still taste her.

She whimpered the slightest bit as she snuggled against him and he suddenly realized she wasn't quite finished with him, either. He knew she was still sleeping and yet she sought his mouth with her own. He allowed her the freedom to move her hand down his abdomen where she came in contact with the heat of his half-stiff erection. After a lingering kiss, she released him then turned in his arms until her back was against him. He looked at her long neck and couldn't resist it as he moved her hair away and kissed her smooth skin, smiling at the thought of her "sensitive" spot, slightly lower than where he now kissed her. When she reached behind herself and grasped onto his hand, he allowed her to pull it around her but he gradually moved it until he was holding her gorgeous breast. He started massaging the globe and before long he was rolling her nipple until it was standing completely erect and he soon felt her hips starting to roll, in search of something she wasn't achieving in her position. Every time her pert bottom rubbed against his staff, he thought he'd go mad if he didn't take it to the next level. "Well," he thought as he pulled back slightly, "there's no time like the present to teach her, and she certainly is a very adept student."

"Sara," he whispered into her ear then kissed it. "Honey, are you awake?"

"Mmm," she moaned her response and tried to nestle her bottom against him again but he pulled back.

"Are you sure?" This time she whimpered a pout as she tried to press back against him. Instead, he slid his hand over her waist and hip, then around her perfect bottom. "Do you know how much I wanted to do this the day you walked into my lecture hall?"

"Not as much as I wanted you to do it," she murmured then sucked her breath in through her teeth as he slid his hand up between her legs from behind.

He moved his kiss down to the top of her back as his fingers delved deeper between her appendages and she spread them to assist his search for her core. When he found it, he slid first one digit then another into her velvety sheath and slowly started to pump them. He moved back up and leaned partially over her to watch her face a moment before bestowing another kiss on her lips, all the while, moving his hand to give her pleasure. He only lasted a minute in this position before he tipped her onto her side again and slid himself up behind her until he was slowly pressing inside her canal. She put her hands on his as he grasped onto her hips but soon he was maneuvering them both so he had adequate entry. He never felt quite like this before. Each time he had made love to her, it was like a new beginning and yet each time, it was as if he were coming home. He reached to the front of her as he was approaching his orgasm and slid his fingers to her pounding bead and almost upon first touch, she arched herself back against him, practically laying her head on his shoulder and he could feel her magnificence squeezing him into another glorious climax. He only took a moment to try to compose himself before he was turning her in his arms and starting to kiss her again.

"I'm sorry!" He told her at a hurried pace. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No," she laughed as he continued to kiss her. "I wouldn't exactly call that "hurting" me. Why would you think that?"

"Because I can't seem to leave you alone for more than an hour. . .and when I came, I sort of collapsed on top of you."

"Only for a moment, Gris," she told him as she stroked his face and looked at him. "And was I really sleeping for a whole hour before we started. . .you know. . .again."

He started to laugh quietly although his eyes still showed concern. "Yeah. It was an hour. I was counting the minutes."

"Um. . .Gris?"

"Hmm?"

"I have to get up now. I really have to pee."

"Oh. Yeah—okay. Sorry."

He released her and she awkwardly maneuvered herself until she was standing next to the bed. She went to take a step but seemed a little unsteady then smiled in spite of herself and went on her way. She made quick use of the facilities then splashed herself just as quickly to try to clean herself a bit then came back to the bedroom she found him sitting on the side of the bed. He faced away from her as he pulled his ringing cell phone from his pants pocket, clearly not having seen her return. She remained quiet as she watched him look at the caller ID very hesitantly then almost reluctantly answer it.

"Um—yeah—hello, Terri. How are you?. . .Yes, I'm settling in. . .I did, yes. She helped me move my things into the hotel. . .What? Yes—yes, I mean my apartment. . .No, I had no problem convincing her to help. . .Well, I wouldn't exactly say she had a crush on me. . .You are? When? I don't know if. . .But, Terri. . .Yes, I know you are. . .I know we had it planned to meet but I didn't realize it was going to be this soon. . .I see. . .I see. . .Yes. . .Yes. . .Yes, Terri, but. . .Terri? Terri?" He closed his phone with blatant distress.

Sara reached for her robe and pulled it around herself, her movement catching his eye as he looked up at her.

"Unexpected visit?" She asked with a faux smile.

"I'm sorry." He got to his feet and faced her, evidently not concerned about his nudity anymore. "I didn't realize. . ."

"What? That I was behind you, listening to you talking to your girlfriend?" She picked up his clothes and handed them to him. "I guess since she's coming, it might be a good idea to get you moved into that hotel—oh, wait—it was an apartment, right? You got a little confused between this time I "dove" into bed with you and the last time? You better get dressed so we can get your things put in my car and you can get that key to your apartment so I can get home before it's too late. I mean, you wouldn't want someone who had a "crush on you" taking up too much of your time."

"Sara. . .please. . ."

"Get dressed, Grissom. Then get the hell out."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Grissom dropped his clothing to the floor as he slowly walked over to Sara. She refused to look at him as she stared at the floor, then the wall then the ceiling. He put his thumb and forefinger on her chin and tilted her face until she had no choice but to look at him and even then, she kept trying to look away.

"Do you really want me to leave?" He asked softly and she finally looked at him. "I don't want to."

"I don't think you have a choice anymore," she said stiffly. "Evidently your "friend" is going to be coming soon and you clearly don't want her to know that we're. . .that I'm. . .that you're. . ."

"I didn't say that, honey," he said as he kept trying to look into her eyes and he began stroking her jaw line. "I was a bit surprised by her phone call. She evidently moved her trip up and is coming here much sooner than she planned."

"So, you planned on a romantic getaway?" Sara shook her head negatively. "And here I am, all fat and gross and interfering with your plans."

"Sara. I didn't have any plans with Terri. Like I said, I didn't expect her to get out here until months from now—and even then I only promised to show her around a bit and help her get settled in."

Sara remained quiet then looked at him again. "Ya know what? I don't know what's going on here. I never expected you to return—I never expected you to find out I was pregnant—and the fact that we. . ." She gestured toward the bed. "Is, frankly, a bit unexpected too."

"So? You've never encountered anything unexpected before? You? Sara Sidle?" He gave her a twisted smile and stepped closer to her again, this time putting his arms around her and pulling her against him. "I never expected to come to San Francisco last spring and fall into immediate infatuation with a tall brunette who made me want her so much I had to repeatedly take cold showers for the next few weeks so I wouldn't be tempted to appease myself in a more substantial manner."

She looked at him and a tiny smile entered her eyes. "Are you saying I made you want to. . ."

"Not "want" to, my dear—but desperately "needed" to." His hands started to rub her back and she leaned into him. He pulled her even closer as he kissed her hair, then she jerked away from him as she stared at him through huge eyes.

"You're horny again!" She blurted and he lifted a brow as he looked at her. She let her eyes wander down over his bare body and could see his erection in full view. "That's why you're doing this! Not because you're not involved with the troll! It's because you want to have sex again!"

"You want to talk about unexpected, Sara. . .THIS is unexpected! And believe me—this has "nothing" to do with Terri Miller!"

"So—what? Now you're saying you never got this aroused when you took her out?" She demanded.

"Of course I got aroused! I hadn't had sex in. . ." he paused as if embarrassed to admit to it or he couldn't remember. "well, in a long time! At that point, all I had to do was be alone with a woman outside of the lab for more than ten minutes and I began "sensing" things! But I never "did" anything with Terri—so it isn't the same, Sara! For crying out loud, I can't seem to "stop" getting aroused around you!"

"If you never "did" anything—then how do you know you wouldn't have kept getting a hard-on after you would've done it?" She crossed her arms over her chest and practically tapped her foot as she stood staring at him, daring him to dispute it and when he looked away from her, she actually stomped her foot. "See! Either you "did" do something—or you "don't know" if you would've kept getting a. . ."

"Sara," he broke in quietly. "I "did" do something with Terri—or I should say "because" of Terri. Something I didn't do when I was here with you. In Terri's case, I . . . did. . .find release. . .on my own."

"You. . ."

"Yes!" He blurted out, stopping her from actually saying it.

"So, you're saying you couldn't control yourself when you went out with Terri but all it took for me was a cold shower?"

"No. I'm saying that when I was with you—I wanted it to be "you" not my hand. The odd thing was that after I was with Terri and I'd be at home—it might have started as a release from being around her, but it always ended up being the most amazing fantasies that involved "you," not her."

That peaked her interest as she looked up at him with eager eyes and took a step back toward him. "You fantasized about me while you. . ." then her eagerness turned into knit brows and she stopped her approach as she looked down at his still hard member. ". . .ew."

He gave a surprised half-laugh as he looked at her. "What do you mean—ew? You wanted to know! You practically demanded to know!"

"Well," she said with raised brows again as she turned around and marched right back out of the room and toward the bathroom again. "you can bet "I'd" never admit anything like "that" to someone. Especially if I planned on having sex with them ever again."

"Sara!" He stood motionless for a second then walked after her with his hands raised in exasperation.

She looked over her shoulder at him as she walked across the bathroom and reached behind the curtain to turn on the shower then started to walk back toward him as he stood in the center of the floor. This time she allowed her robe to part as she put one arm up around his neck and slid her other hand across his firm, smooth chest. She looked down at the erection that didn't seem quite so firm anymore and she gave him a crooked smile as her hand traced its way down over his stomach until she was fondling him. She looked up into those gorgeous blue eyes and he looked back indignantly.

"Didn't your mother ever tell you that if you . . .you know . . .too much, it will fall off?"

"I never talked to my mother about masturbation. Thank you for putting "that" thought into my head."

"It seems you're not in the mood any longer, Dr. Grissom."

"Well, what do you expect? You've got a sharp tongue, Sara Sidle. You know how to cut a man down to size."

Her other hand came back up as she laced her fingers through the hair at the back of his head, taking extreme pleasure in its texture as she swayed against him and pressed her protruding abdomen against his. "I bet I could use that sharp tongue and get you right back "up" to size." She moved her gaze up to his again. "Do you think?"

He let out what could only be considered a low growl as he reached beneath her buttocks and lifted her against him. He carried her to the tub where he placed her inside then stepped in with her, pulling her robe from her that was already getting soaked from the water showering down against them. With a loud 'splat' it landed on the linoleum floor and Sara only gave a brief thought to the water she was going to have to clean up. She wasn't sure what to expect. She had always heard about having sex in the shower but the thought of trying to breathe through a face full of water and still look sexy as she would be sputtering it back out of her nose and mouth, just didn't seem to make any sense. Already the water was hitting her in the face and she was running her hands over it to get it out of her eyes but then its spray was lowered and was now hitting her shoulders and when she opened one eye, she saw him smiling indulgently at her.

"I—uh—didn't think to do that," she told him as he handed her a wash cloth and she promptly wiped the water from her eyes then looked at the spray nozzle he had positioned so it was now hitting the back of his shoulders instead her face. "You must be. . .experienced at having sex in the shower."

He gave a little chuckle as he took the cloth back then tossed it out onto the floor too. "Now, are you talking about with someone else—or by myself?"

"Oh, Grissom!" She complained. "Don't kill the mood by reminding me that you had to jerk off in order to get release from dating Terri Miller."

"Terri Miller?" He asked as he turned her away from him and she saw him pick up her shower gel. "You're moving her up in your estimation from troll status?"

"No," she said emphatically. "But I'm not sure I ever saw a troll with teeth as big as hers! I think she's part horse! Damn! I think she could have done you serious damage if she would've ever. . ."

"Sara," he said softly as he started to spread the gel over her shoulders. "I don't want to talk about anyone else doing that except you, and your beautiful teeth."

"My teeth aren't beautiful—in case you haven't noticed—I wear a rather prominent gap between my incisors!"

She could hear a dirty chuckle from behind her as he spread the soap down over her back, waist and hips. "I've noticed."

"And?" She tried to look over her shoulder at him and saw him intently looking at his job as he turned her back away from him so he could continue.

"And. . .what?"

"There sounded as if there was an "and" at the end of that comment."

"I don't think you want to know what the "and" is." His hands soaped her arms and went down to her fingers where they entwined and took her hands with his as he went back to her abdomen and started soaping their child.

This time, because of how he was reaching around her, she could see more of his face as she turned her head. She started to giggle as she looked at the pink-tinged cheeks that were giving him away. "Oh."

"Oh—what?"

"Evidently were fantasizing about my gap as you. . ." She giggled again. "So, does it compare to what you were thinking as you made good friends with your hand?"

He didn't answer as he placed a kiss and started to suck on the area that sent her squirming away and when she turned to look at him, she melted at the silliest smile she had ever seen. "Turn around, I'm not finished."

"DON'T do that," she warned him.

She pointed a finger at him but he pulled her it up to his lips and kissed it, then slowly opened his mouth and pulled it inside where he gently sucked its tip. She was mesmerized by the sight before her and allowed him to go on until she felt her knees were ready to buckle then she nearly jumped on him as she grabbed his face with both hands and replaced her finger with her mouth. Her legs were moving on their own accord as they nearly tried to climb up him until he finally grabbed her beneath her thighs and lifted her as she tried to wrap her legs around his waist. She could feel him trying to maneuver her but after several feverish kisses he pulled back from her and smiled again.

"I don't think this is going to work. I think "junior" is getting in the way."

"Oh," she said with disappointment as her legs slid back down and he released her then she reached for the gel and started spreading it on his chest. "Then we'll finish this shower and move on to better things."

She took her time as she massaged his shoulders and arms. There was something absolutely fascinating about the shape of his arms, especially his forearms that turned her insides to jelly. His chest and abdomen amazed her and she had to smile as she came closer to his pubic hair and saw him quickly rising to meet her, but she skipped over that part of him and moved down to his legs. And they were beautiful legs, starting at his thighs, working down over his knees that might have shown the slightest bit of being bow-legged but were still amazingly muscled. She looked at his feet, half dreading it because in her experience the men she had dated usually had ugly feet, but his weren't. They definitely weren't feminine—but they were very attractive male feet. Wow! She was doubting this guy had "any" flaws.

She stood up and switched positions with him so the water was hitting her back and she turned him away from her as she worked the gel from the back of his neck, down over his shoulders, onto his muscled back, waist, hips, and. . .oh my! What an absolutely gorgeous male butt! Jesus, but he was beautiful! She ran her hands over it and had to close her eyes as she savored the feel of it, then she proceeded to use more gel as she took more time with it than probably was necessary. She moved on to the underside of the glorious globes and she realized his breathing was a bit ragged and when she looked up at him, she saw his stance had changed. He was now leaning both hands against the shower wall, leaning slightly forward with outstretched arms and when she came in contact with his sensitive flesh he groaned loudly.

Ah, damn, but she was so captivated by this man that she couldn't stand it. She dropped to her knees and proceeded to send kisses over his hips and on to the muscles of his behind then she slid her hand forward and came in contact with the tight sacks that were so hot they practically scorched her. This time the moan was accompanied with a hiss and he gave no argument as she pressed on his hips to turn him around to face her.

This time she didn't wait for instruction. Her desire for this was so intense that she merely took hold of it and guided it into her hungry mouth. She worked it as his right hand moved to her head as his left went on the wall behind her. Her hands brailed him; massaged him; took in the very essence of him as they moved over his legs and backside and she listened to the gasps, moans and words that escaped him as she continued her feast.

"Sara," he whispered. "Oh, Sara. This is everything and more. God! Don't ever stop!"

She continued and used his hip movements, the pressure he was using on her head and the sounds coming from his throat and mouth as her guide to how fast or slow she was to move; which direction he wanted it; what he wanted touched and how, and when he reached down and tried to lift her, she refused to budge.

"Huh-uh," she mouthed against him and continued on.

She grew more and more aroused as this pristine man who rarely ever said a word worse than damn released phrases that would have turned his pink cheeks red if he had been listening to himself. When he did release himself, she felt a power unlike she had ever experienced. He was breathless as he now held himself up with both hands on the wall, then after several moments he slowly looked back down at her and grabbed her beneath the arms so quickly that she wasn't sure what his intentions were. He hauled her to her feet and pressed her against the wall as his mouth devoured hers. His hands grasped onto her face in what could only be described as desperation.

"Jesus, Sara," he breathed against her mouth as he finally stopped kissing her. "I don't know if I can ever let you go."

He reached for the faucet and turned them off, then grabbed her hand and nearly yanked her out of the tub with him. She slowed down as she was going to grab onto a towel but he pulled her along and she let him position her as she watched his every move with great curiosity. He took her into her bedroom and sat her on the edge of her bed, then knelt down in front of her where he started kissing her again after what was an earth-shattering exchange and her fingers were flexing on his shoulders in pleasure, he pulled back and moved his kiss down over her face then to her throat (avoiding her ticklish spot this time) and on to her chest. He moaned as he latched onto her nipple and she felt it go straight to her backbone as she ran her fingers through his hair, cradling him to her as he suckled. His fingers slid ever so gently down over her waist and along her hips and outer thighs before he slid them to the inside and gently pressed her legs farther apart. She felt dizzy as he made love to her breasts while his fingers danced up the tender skin of her thighs until they found the destination they were in search of and when he stroked her, she gasped and started to sway. He pulled his head back and looked at her, face-to-face, as he moved his fingers in her and his eyes enveloped her completely.

"Lie back, sweetheart," he said softly and she only hesitated a moment before complying.

He lifted her left foot and massaged it then raised it until his lips met her calf and he kissed it. He moved up farther to her knee and then on to her thigh as he lifted her other leg as well and gently deposited them over his shoulders. He teased her with his fingertips, his lips and his tongue and his breath as he slid his hands beneath her bottom and raised her to his satisfaction. Already, her legs were trembling as she clutched onto the comforter below her. If she had thought his ministrations were good six months before, now that he wasn't drugged out of his mind, he was amazing—terrific—exceptional—god-like! She couldn't even be sure what he was doing as together, every movement, every sensation overwhelmed her until she started to whimper. She did notice that her responses were making his actions more aggressive. He almost seemed to be ravished and in desperate need to do this to survive, but she definitely didn't mind as his eager noises only intensified what he was already doing to her. She thought she could hear him saying things to her; little words like "sweet, so sweet" and "ambrosia." He had her writhing on the bed, not searching for the end, because she knew where to find it and it was only at the hands and mouth of Gilbert Grissom, but looking for it as he wound her tighter and tighter. And when it came she was positive he would let her be, but instead, he remained, much gentler now as he took from her what she offered.

Her mind was boggled and she had never felt so weak in her life, but when he finally moved, she felt him lifting her again and pulling her up on the bed.

"No," she whimpered without any strength. "No more, please, no more."

"No more?" His voice was tender as he lay on the bed next to her and pulled the comforter across them both. "I hope that isn't a long-term decision."

He kissed the side of her forehead as he held her in his arms and she nestled against him.

"Just—not now."

He chuckled softly and she turned toward him, clinging to his side as if, should she lose contact, she would fall off the ends of the earth. "Sleep, darling. I think we've both had more than our fair share for one day."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Grissom opened his eyes and was nearly blinded by the light coming through the windows. He covered them with his hand as he reached for the blanket and came in contact with bare skin—"his" bare skin. He never slept in the nude. What the hell? He sat straight up, visions of six months earlier popping into his head when he woke up under similar circumstances. Sight of the woman sitting Indian-style on the other side of the bed, watching him, told the story of what had happened over the past. . .he looked at the clock. . .fourteen hours? Well, granted, they slept through a good many of the past eight hours, but the first six hours were beyond words.

He rubbed his hand over his face in an attempt to wake up more fully then looked at Sara again. She looked amazing as she sat there wearing a button-down shirt and nothing else. It was opened at the throat and revealed a bit of her cleavage, then was opened again as it flowed around her stomach and she looked like a dream as she smiled at him.

"You're up," he said stupidly. "How long" have you been up?"

"About half an hour," she told him as she pushed her hair behind her ear. "Are you hungry?"

He simply looked at her a moment as he realized he hadn't eaten anything since their ice cream escapade the day before.

"Uh—yeah. Very."

"Oh, good!" She scampered across the mattress and reached behind him to the nightstand. "Sit back."

He moved until he was leaning against the headboard with the sheet pulled across his lap and she knelt next to him holding a plate of scrambled eggs.

"Have you eaten yet?" He asked.

"No. I thought I'd share." She got some of the egg on her fork and moved it toward him but dropped it onto the sheet. She looked irritated at it before looking back at him.

"Here," he suggested as he spread his legs. "Sit here."

She got an amused smirk on her face. "Already? While we're eating?"

He chuckled at her. "I didn't mean to sit "on" it. I meant to sit in front of it."

She gave him a smile that told him she had known what he meant as she moved until she was kneeling between his legs, facing him. This time, she moved the dish closer to his mouth as she gave him a bite. She took a bite for herself and spilled it anyway, having it land down the front of her shirt.

"Ah, man! I don't know why, but I can't seem to eat when I'm around you! I'm always spilling something."

"I don't mind," he reached inside her shirt and pulled the egg out then put it in his mouth. "It gives me an excuse to touch you."

She raised a brow as if she approved of that thought then got another bite for herself. "Do you have plans for today?"

"I should go to the university and see about setting up my things. I'll be starting Monday morning and I'd like to get a little preparation done. What about you?" He took the bite she offered him.

"I have to be to work in an hour and a half." She took another fork full of egg. "Would you like to use my car? You could drop me off then pick me up when I'm done."

"You're going to need your car. I'll call a cab and get a rental." He took the dish from her. "Let me do that. You look extremely uncomfortable."

"I'm fine." She hesitated between bites as she looked at him. "When. . .is your friend supposed to arrive?"

"Tonight. I told her I'd see she gets settled in."

Sara dropped her gaze and nodded as she stabbed another clump of egg but instead of feeding to either herself or him, she simply put the fork down and handed him the plate then got up from the bed. "Here. You can finish it. I'm not hungry and I have to shower and get ready for work."

"Sara," he tried as he watched her go to her dresser and start getting clothes.

"No. It's fine. You have things to do. I have things to do. I—uh—can't "tell you what to do." I mean, for all we know, by the end of the weekend, you and I may decide we never want to see one another again. It isn't as if we decided to get married and raise a kid together." She turned and started out the door.

Grissom put the dish of food down on the bed and jumped up to go after her but paused and thought at this point it probably would be better to put some pants on. He quickly grabbed his jeans and pulled them over his legs then started after her again but by the time he got to the bathroom door, it was locked and he could hear the shower running.

"Sara!" He called through the door and when there was no answer, he tried again. "Sara!"

"I'm taking a shower, Grissom. It'll have to wait." Sara's voice sounded friendly enough but there was something off about it.

Grissom looked around at the small table in the hallway searching for something he could use then started searching through his pockets and after a moment he pulled out a paperclip which he went about straightening.

"Sara, I'm not going anywhere. I plan to be involved with this baby's life. I helped create it, whether we planned it or not—I'm going to be there for it."

Grissom inserted the end of the paperclip into the center of the door handle and started probing it.

"That's nice to hear, Gris," She said enthusiastically but still he could hear something. "But I'm taking a shower right now and I need to get ready for work. Like I said, I have to be there in about a half an hour. . ."

"I thought you said an hour and a half," he said as he kept probing the little hole in the center of the knob.

"Right. An hour and a half. Anyway, it will take me about an hour to get ready, and I've got about a thirty minute drive. I always like to stop and pick up coffee for the guys on the way and that can take up to ten minutes or more. . ."

Grissom pushed in the appropriate spot and the lock popped open, allowing him to open the door and walk inside where he found her sitting on the hamper, holding onto her clothes and looking extremely miserable. Upon sight of Grissom she jumped and nearly knocked over the hamper.

"Sara, honey. . ."

"Dammit, Grissom! I might've been using the toilet! Can't I have "any" privacy?"

"You said you were using the shower, not the toilet."

"Well, do you think I'm going to yell out, "hey, Gris, I think I'll use the commode right now?" No! I might not be as refined as your "Dr. Miller" but I'm not that vulgar yet—at least not after only having sex with you for one night! You don't tell someone you use the toilet until you've been with them for . . . I don't know. . .at least six months or a year even!"

"Sara, I think I'm aware of your need to use the toilet. You "are" human."

"That's not the point! If I wanted you to know I was using the toilet—I'd tell you—but I don't want you to know!"

"But you're "not" using the toilet."

"Oh." She looked at the porcelain throne they were discussing then back to him. "But I "could have been!"

He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, getting completely lost in their conversation. "Fine! May we talk when you come out of the bathroom?"

"Fine. Whatever. I don't know. If I have time. Now go." She went to the door and held onto the handle gesturing for him to leave then mumbled as she closed the door. "I bet you wouldn't walk in on "horse-face" if "she" were in the bathroom!"

Grissom went back to Sara's bedroom and gathered his things then took them to the room he had been staying in. His phone went off and he cursed as he looked at the caller ID, took a deep breath then flipped it open.

"Hello, Terri."

"Gil. I caught an earlier flight and am waiting at the airport right now. Would it be inconvenient for you to pick me up?"

Grissom felt as if he had been kicked in the chest. Damn! His first thought was that if he left now, Sara would really be upset. His second thought was more primal as he remembered what he had been doing before he went to sleep the previous night, and although they had both just showered, he was positive his stubbled face carried the scent of the beautiful woman he had been with. The last thing he wanted was to go pick up Terri like this.

"Um, Terri. I don't have a car yet. Could you call a cab? I'm sure it'll be faster at this point, even if I did have a car and could get you."

"You don't have a car yet? How are you getting around? You've been there for two days, haven't you?"

"Yes, but I didn't get around to renting one yet. I was going to do that this morning after I showered."

"Alright," Terri said a bit coolly. "I'll call a cab. When do you think you might be able to meet me and show me around campus?"

"I—don't know, Terri. Like I said, I've still got to shower and rent a car. I probably won't be able to get to your hotel until nearly lunch time."

"Well, maybe that would be better. It will give me time to freshen up then we can grab something to eat. Do you have a pen, you can write down the hotel and room number."

Grissom took the information then left the paper on the dresser. He went back to Sara's room and grabbed the plate of food then returned to the kitchen where he finished what was left over. By the time he went to the rear of the apartment again, she was already in her room with the door closed and after the encounter in the bathroom, he had no desire to walk in on her until they reached some kind of understanding. He looked at his watch and noticed she was most likely still going to be there for another forty-five minutes which would give him time to clean up then talk to her after she was finished getting ready for work. He grabbed some clean clothes and disappeared behind the bathroom door. A quick shower and shampoo and he was back out within twenty minutes but he found the apartment empty.

He finished getting ready for the day but paused upon sight of one of his dirty socks on the dresser next to the note with Terri's hotel and room number. Clearly Sara brought over the piece of clothing he had left behind when she found the note. It was just as clear that she left early so she didn't have to face him. It was the beginning of an eventful day, he thought with a deep sigh then finished getting ready and called a cab which took him to the car rental.

Over two hours later he was driving from Sara's apartment with the supplies he wanted to take to the university where he unloaded and started to unpack his things in the office they had assigned to him. By twelve-fifteen he was walking into the hotel lobby where he waited for Terri. It took another half hour until she joined him and they went to a restaurant down the street that seated them and took their orders. The atmosphere was semi-formal which suited Terri and made him glad he was wearing a jacket.

"Well, finally," Terri sighed as she spread her napkin across her lap and looked at him. "I was beginning to think I was "never" going to get a meal out of you, Dr. Grissom."

"I'd say it looks like we're going to make our way through lunch without interruption."

"So, Gil, you never explained how you were getting around the past two days without a car. I would imagine that would've been one of the first things on your agenda. I know it's on my "to-do" list. I plan to pick one up after lunch."

"Actually, I didn't go many places where I had to drive. And when I did, Sara drove her car."

"My, isn't she the good Samaritan." Terri said tightly. "You must have made quite the impression on her last spring."

"I'm glad I had the opportunity to meet Sara. She's an extraordinary person. I suspect, since we'll be working at the same university for the next several weeks, you'll have the opportunity to meet her."

"Really?" She picked up the glass of wine she had ordered and took a sip. "She isn't still affiliated with the university is she? I thought she was a CSI with a career of her own—not a student, any longer."

"She "is" an investigator; a very good one, as a matter of fact. And no, she isn't considered a student any longer."

The waiter placed a salad in front of Terri and a stuffed chicken breast in front of Grissom which he dug into with vigor. He had to smile to himself when he decided he was refilling the calories he had worked off the day and night before.

"It's good to see you smiling, Gil. You clearly needed to get away from Las Vegas for a respite. I can only hope my association with you today helped produce your present state of mind," Terri commented and he looked up at her. "So, tell me. How is your apartment? Are you finding it adequate?"

"That's something I wanted to talk to you about, Terri." He leaned back in his chair and looked at her. "It's much closer to the university than the hotel, and since you're going to be here for several weeks, I thought perhaps you'd consider staying there. I can't imagine it'll be as elegant as the hotel, but the location might make up for any downside you'd find with it."

A touch of a smile curved Terri's lips before she slowly nodded her head. "Yes. I can see the advantage of being closer to the school. I think it's a wonderful idea, Gil. When will we be going there?"

"We could gather your things after lunch and take you to rent your car. From there, we'll take your things to the apartment and get you settled in."

"That sounds wonderful," she said as she continued to watch him and he took another ravenous bite of his lunch.

"We should discuss the arrangements. . ." Grissom began but was interrupted by a large man he had met earlier while at the university.

"Dr. Grissom!" The man approached their table. "I had no idea you were coming here. Is this your lovely wife?"

Grissom was about to deny this when Terri spoke up, instead.

"Hello," Terri extended her hand with a bright smile. "My name is Terri."

"It's wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Grissom. I'm Professor Sanders from the Department of Natural Sciences. I'll be working with your husband over the next two semesters."

Grissom wiped his mouth with his napkin and tried again but was cut off.

"Have you been seated, Professor Sanders?" Terri asked. "If not, I'd love to have you join us."

"Why, thank you."

"Excuse me, waiter? Could you bring another seat for Professor Sanders, please?"

They all watched as the waiter went to bring back a chair and took the man's order, then, finally, Grissom spoke up.

"I'm sorry you misunderstood, Professor Sanders," Grissom told him. "But this isn't my wife. She's a colleague who will be working with us, as well. This is Dr. Terri Miller."

"Of course!" The professor suddenly seemed to be a bit intimidated by her. "I should have known. I've read enough of your articles—and I've seen your photo equally as often. I just assumed the beautiful woman on Dr. Grissom's arm would be his wife."

"Unfortunately, we haven't had the opportunity to even get past having lunch together. I'm afraid the opportunity for matrimony hasn't presented itself yet."

"Dr. Miller is a busy scientist," Grissom said. "I imagine her lifestyle doesn't slow down enough for some fortunate man to capture her."

"Well, then I think you should run faster, Dr. Grissom—then you'll be able to keep up with her."

Terri sent a knowing smile to Grissom as he looked back at her, not knowing what to say to this man who clearly had no right to know his business and he doubted he would ever be under the circumstances that he would "need" to know Grissom's business. So, as Terri and Professor Sanders lead the conversation throughout the remainder of the meal, Grissom continued to look at his watch as he finished and suffered through the professor's lame attempts to woo the blonde anthropologist.

It was nearly three o'clock by the time Grissom and Terri were driving away from the car rental, and another hour before they were unlocking the door to the apartment that had been rented for Grissom. He hadn't had the opportunity to actually sit down and talk to Terri again until the moment they carried her luggage into the apartment and looked around at which point Terri came from the only bedroom and looked at him questioningly.

"I can understand if you're an exceptionally immaculate person, Grissom. That might explain why the place appears as if you haven't stayed here the past two days, but the absence of any of your things is another matter."

"That's what I was trying to explain to you at the restaurant. I "haven't" been staying here. That's why I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for you to have an apartment of your own during your stay."

"I see," she said as if realizing she had been misled. "May I ask where you "have" been staying? Considering your options, I can only imagine that your disciple has provided you with more than some extra help to get settled in."

"I'm staying with Sara and plan to stay there throughout my time here. At this point it's undecided what I plan to do when my semesters here are through."

"You're giving up your career in Las Vegas simply because you're infatuated with a young girl? Come now, Gil—I thought you were so much more stable than that."

"My reasons for staying in San Francisco involves more than a mere infatuation, Terri. That much I'll tell you at this point." He looked around at his surroundings. "I'll still be available if you need any extra help, but at this point, I'd like to call it a day and go home."

"Home? My goodness, you certainly have grounded yourself already, haven't you?"

"I feel more grounded that I have in a long time," he said with a gentle smile. "But, like I was saying, if you need anything—you have my number. My first official class is Monday morning. I can't imagine we won't be seeing one another on campus, and as I mentioned, I'm sure you'll have the opportunity to meet Sara soon."

"Yes. . .well. . .that will be lovely." She walked him to the door. "I'm sure we'll be talking again soon, Grissom."

Grissom looked at his watch as he walked up to Sara's door. It was completely reminiscent of two days before, even to the point of finding Ben, the pizza delivery boy leaving the building just as he was entering it. He knocked on the door but didn't receive any response so he pressed the doorbell. After another minute of no response he knocked again. Finally the door opened and Sara stood looking at him.

"You're going to need to get a key if you plan on staying out all night. There's pizza on the counter. I'm going to bed. I'm sure you can find your way to your bedroom after you've eaten."

She closed the door and walked past him to her room where she closed the door behind her.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Sara laid in her bed, holding a tissue to her nose. (Dammit! I've been using up boxes and boxes of tissues since I got knocked up! I should've bought stock in Puffs! God! What if all this crying causes the baby to come out and all it does is cry? Or—what if it causes it to be an extremely depressed baby? What if it comes out and it absolutely hates me? What if after carrying this baby for nine months, after crying for eight of those nine months, after puking for four of those nine months and waddling for three of those nine months—what if—what if it loves its father and his new "horse-face-troll" girlfriend, and hates me—it's own mother?)

She listened to Grissom moving around in the apartment. (That's right, buster! You just stay out there where you belong! You want to go and spend the entire day with Ms. Terri-bleached-blonde-Miller then you can spend the entire night in your own bed! I wish I didn't "have" an extra bed—then you'd have to sleep on the sofa! I wish I didn't "have a sofa"—and you could just sleep on the damned floor! Anywhere but in here!)

She turned onto her back and blew her nose again. (That's it—go to the bathroom! I hear ya! How would you like me to walk in on "you?" You're a man—you probably wouldn't care. Dammit! Fine—then stay in the bathroom all damned night. See what I care. You want to get yourself all cleaned up and pretty for your sallow-faced girlfriend! And just what in the hell's the story with her damned eyebrows? Does she even "have" eyebrows? Doesn't the witch know a person's "supposed to have eyebrows? Wait a minute—what if I have to pee. Scratch the staying in the bathroom all night idea.)

She turned toward the windows and wiped her eyes. (Finished in the bathroom? Good! Well, that was certainly fast! What's the matter? You already have your shower tonight? Did you take a shower with your "girl-friend?" Did you scrub her back like you did mine? Did you let her scrub your back like I did—horny bastard! I hope your prick shrivels up and falls off!)

She flipped over to face the door again. (You just go right to bed, Dr. Two-timer! And not MY bed! I hope your bed frame breaks and you have to sleep on box springs and a mattress that's crooked and lopsided! I hope you roll out onto the goddamned floor! That's it, walk past my door again! Don't you dare even think of stopping. "WHY" didn't you stop? Wait—no—just go eat the damned pizza! Stuff yourself with it until you get so damned fat "Terrr-rriii" won't want you! Eat the whole damned thing! Wait—why didn't I get a slice to bring in here with me? I shouldn't have told him about the pizza! I'm really hungry and God, it's tomato and onion deep dish night! Well, fine! I hope you eat it and you're allergic to tomatoes, or onions, or pizza crust—it can happen! Why didn't "I" bring the damned pizza in here? They make the best damned deep dish pizza in the city! God, I'm hungry!)

"Sara?" Grissom's voice came from outside her door.

"What?" She asked with a sniffle.

"The pizza's getting cold. Don't you want some?"

"No!" She lied. "Why would I want any damned pizza?"

"Come on, honey. You must be hungry."

"I'm not hungry! "I" just ate! I ate at a fancy restaurant, too! And—and—and I didn't eat alone! "I" ate with—with—(great, now who in the hell can I tell him I ate with? Already used the name Jesse Cassidy. . .um—rock stars—quick—pick a damned name!) I ate with—(think dufus! How hard is it to think of two rock stars? Mic Jagger—and—Freddie Mercury! That's it!) with Mic Mercury!" She cringed on that one.

"Are you going to open the door?"

"No. Go away," she tried to order but it came out as a plea and her tears sounded clearly through her voice. "I'm quite tired from sitting with (she cringed again) Mic Mercury—and—and dancing. He took me dancing, too!"

"Ah, sweetheart," Grissom said tenderly as he opened the door and walked inside with the box of pizza. "What's wrong?"

"I didn't say you could come in!" Sara said as she attempted to sit up in a hurry but didn't quite make it as gracefully as she had hoped as she flopped back down into a lying position. She rolled out of bed and quickly tried to compose herself as she sat on the mattress's edge. "Did I say you could come in? HOW did you get in? Did you pick my lock again? You're rather good at picking locks—aren't you? Now I don't know if my baby's going to grow up to be a forensic scientist or simply a burglar!"

"It wasn't locked, honey."

"Oh," she said indignantly as she tried to push her hair out of her face and look as dignified as Ms. "Albino" but not realizing that her nose and eyes were bright red from her crying. "I knew that. Of course I knew that. I "am" a CSI—I think I can tell whether a door's locked or not!"

"Of course you can," he said gently as he sat down next to her and placed the box on the other side of him.

He opened the box and took out a slice. The smell hit her and she grabbed onto the mattress as she damn near fell off her perch from inhaling the heavenly scent. Her eyes grew large as he waved the slice in front of her nose.

"What are you doing?"

"Well, I know you said you already ate with. . .who was it? Tyler Bon Jovi, but. . ."

"Mic Mercury!" She corrected with irritation.

"Oh, okay—Mic Mercury, then. But I thought maybe the baby might be a little hungry. I mean, you "are" eating for two now—right?"

"Y—yeah," she said hesitantly as she cautiously looked at him holding the pizza no more than two inches from her lips.

"Well, one dinner with Freddie Jagger isn't enough to sustain you, even if you did go dancing backstage afterward." He gave her the sexiest damned smile she had ever seen which only made the realization that the gig was up all the worse and she burst into another surge of tears and she moved away from him as she tipped over and hugged her pillow.

"Shut up," she practically wailed.

"Ahh, honey, come on. Sit up now. You need to eat. Don't you? Even if you do think I'm nothing but a jerk right now—you still need to eat."

She tried to push herself up, again having a bit of trouble until he took her hand and assisted her. She blew her nose again, gave a big sniff and then moved to the head of the bed where she turned and drew her feet up as she leaned back against the headboard. She held herself with as much dignity as she could muster then extended her hand and said coolly, "Yes. I agree. You "are" nothing but a big jerk! And I "shouldn't" take it out on your child—so I guess I should eat."

"Are you sure?" He asked as he gave her a questioningly look. "I mean, if you're too full from your night of. . ."

"Just give me the damned pizza!" She jerked it out of his hands but in the process flung a giant glob of tomatoes, onions, cheese and sauce onto her chest which only succeeded in bringing on more tears before she looked at his gentle smile. "I hate you! I only spill my food when I'm around you! And don't you lay one finger on me to try to wipe it off just so "you can touch me!"

"I wasn't going to," he said calmly.

"Good!" She took a big bite of the saucy delight and talked around her words. "Because I didn't want you to and. . .wait. . . "why" weren't you going to?" She started to sniffle again as she tried to swallow. "You already wiped food off of "her" and ate it, didn't you? Now you're full because you ate your meal off of her."

This comment brought a quick chuckle from him. "Of course not! I didn't eat any food off of Terri."

"Don't you say her name while you're sitting on my bed! And I'm sure you didn't have to! She'd never drop her food! That's because the bitch is a robot and she's got a food magnet in her mouth and it just draws it in and never falls anywhere but in that big mouth with those big horse teeth! I mean—how can you miss when you've got teeth as big at those?" Rushed out of her mouth all at once before she realized she had said it out loud and quickly covered her mouth then decided to hell with it—she was hungry after all, and she removed her hand and took another bite of the glorious pizza.

"Sara—be nice," he scolded gently.

This made her look at him through big eyes and slap her pizza into his hand—top side down—as she felt another surge of tears. "I "AM" nice. I'm a "very" nice person!"

"I can see that," he said absently as he turned and carefully flipped the pizza over, replaced it into the box and got another slice. "Here, eat this one instead."

She looked at the mess she made in his hand as he picked up a napkin and started to wipe it off. "You're right. I'm horrible. Look what I did. No "nice" person would do that."

He gave her a sideward glance. "Come on, eat up. I want a big, fat, baby—not a scrawny one."

He must've realized the mistake of his chosen phrasing immediately because when she dropped the pizza on his hand again and covered her face, he quickly deposited it back in the box and moved closer where he pulled her into his arms and she cried against his shoulder.

"I'm fat! And now you want to make me even fatter!"

He wasn't quite sure he could stop the laughter from his eyes so he avoided looking at her. "No, of course you're not fat. You're beautiful and healthy and you're giving life to another beautiful and healthy human being. You're creating a miracle, Sara."

"If I'm creating a miracle, then why do I feel so lousy—and fat?"

This time he couldn't stop the little chuckle that came from him and she leaned back to look at him. "Sorry. I coughed."

"No—you didn't. You laughed." Her deep sadness was quickly turning back to irritation. "You think this is funny! You think "I'm" funny because I can't sit up as regally as your girlfriend! Well—go stick a kid in her gut and see how fast "she" sits up!" She swiped his arm with a quick slap. "Ya know what? If that's what you want—then go back to her damned hotel room and spend your life there! Because I'm not going to have my child treated like this! "MY" child is going to grow up to be somebody! Go on! Go!"

He sighed heavily then before she realized it, he was lying on her, pushing her onto the mattress as his lips met hers. (Why that son-of-a-bitch! If he thinks he can just come in here and push me around—oooh, that feels nice! But still! If he believes he can. . .mmmm, he does that sooooo well. I don't care! He's not going to think he can just. . .oh wow—what was I saying? The hell with it—he's soooo good at this.)

When she was completely past her anger and eagerly returning his kisses, he pulled back and looked into her eyes. "Feeling better now?"

"Y—yes." She nodded her head as she clutched at his shoulders.

"You don't want to throw me out now?"

"N—no." She shook her head negatively.

"Are you going to eat something?"

She nodded her head in agreement and when he sat up and got the pizza again she looked at him in confusion then realized what he was talking about. "Oh—you meant the pizza."

"Sara Sidle, you have an amazingly dirty little mind. Come on, sit up." He pulled her back into her sitting position and moved until he was on the other side of the bed and imitating her position as he leaned back against the headboard. "Go on, now. Get some of that into your stomach."

She took another bite as she watched him toe off his shoes then unbutton his shirt. She silently worked on the pizza as she kept her eyes on the way his legs sprawled down across the bed. He leaned forward when he pulled the shirt off, leaving on only his tee-shirt. She ate some more as her eyes wandered down over the muscles of his arms and on to his chest and stomach.

"Aren't you going to eat some?" She asked quietly.

"I'll eat some when you're finished. I want to make sure you eat." He smiled at her again. "Even if you did have a banquet with Freddie Jagger."

"Be quiet," she moped, "and it wasn't Freddie Jagger—it was Mic Mercury. And I haven't had anything to eat since lunch time. Did you eat today?"

"Yes. I had lunch today—I had stuffed chicken breast—and it was with Terri. I also gave her the keys to my apartment—because I had no intentions of using it. I helped take her things there, explained that I was staying with you, and then left."

She had a little trouble swallowing the next bite of pizza but tried very hard to remain calm even though she could feel her eyes starting to burn again. She moved her gaze back to her feet as she couldn't seem to meet his eyes at the moment then when she felt his hand on her thigh she quickly jerked her head back in his direction.

"Ouch!" Sara banged her face off Grissom's nose, causing him to slowly lean back and touch his injured appendage.

"Ow," he said quietly.

"I'm sorry. What were you doing?"

"I was going to kiss your cheek. See what I get for trying to be nice."

"You can always try again," she gave him a small smile.

"Come here," he told her and took her hand, maneuvering her until she was leaning back against his chest.

This time he placed a gentle kiss on her lips and when he leaned back again, he was licking the sauce off he had collected there. She moved her slice over to his mouth and he took a bite. They continued sharing the food until they had the box emptied of its contents. Finally, Grissom was leaning back against the headboard and Sara was leaning against him, both feeling full and content.

"Now, I'm stuffed," Sara said as she put her hands on her stomach.

"Not yet," he sighed as he put his hands over hers.

She slowly turned until she was looking into his mischievous smile. "Now, who's the one with a dirty little mind?"

"My dear, you couldn't even begin to fathom what's been on my mind as far as you're concerned."

He chuckled and shuffled down on the bed until he was lying with his head on the pillow and she moved with him. He turned toward her and pushed her onto her back then raised himself up onto his elbow and looked at her face. His eyes travel down over her throat to the top of her nightshirt. She watched as he leaned down and placed his lips over the gob of pizza still on the top of her chest. She moaned as his tongue came out and he bathed her skin.

"I thought you said you weren't going to clean that off of me," she said as her fingers went into his brown curls.

"I never said that. I said I wasn't going to "lay a finger on you" to clean it off. This isn't my finger." He bent down and started kissing her chest again, then slid his hand down over her thighs and up between them where he applied pressure to her panties. "This is."

She gave a throaty chuckle and tugged on his hair until he moved back up with his head on the pillow next to hers. He gazed into her eyes and made her stomach do flip flops—then she realized it wasn't only his doing, but his child's also. She smiled at him and moved his hand to her abdomen.

"Feel this," she whispered as the baby started kicking with a vengeance.

"Does this always happen after you eat?" He smiled at her.

"Pizza. It loves pizza—and spaghetti—and lasagna—and eggplant parm."

"Oh, loves Italian, huh?"

"Mmm-hmm," she said as she watched him watching her belly. "And oriental and Mexican. But I think it's actually you. It's never kicked this hard or this much before. It's almost reacting to your voice."

"Really?" He looked up at her then down at her stomach again before pressing her nightshirt apart and bending down and pressing a kiss against the moving area. "Should I wait for it to fall back to sleep?"

"Why?" She laughed as she ran her hand over his tee-shirt-clad back.

"Because. It's like having sex in front of your children. I mean—I guess it "is" having sex in front of your child." He looked at her again. "If we wait, we can get down and get really kinky."

She slapped his back. "Just what do you consider kinky? You—who can't even say "bra." What would you consider kinky?"

"We could. . .do it on. . the sofa." He wiggled his brows at her, making her laugh again. "What? You've got a better idea?"

"I don't know—you're the experienced one here." She started stroking his hair as he lay down next to her again, then she sobered as she dropped her gaze from him. "I'm sorry I behaved like that tonight. I think my hormones are going out through my eyeballs or something. One minute I'm ready to go break your bed so you have to sleep on the floor, and the next I want to stuff you inside my comforter so you can never get out of "my" bed."

"You've got this all planned out, huh?"

"I thought about it some, yes."

"Well," he said thoughtfully as he started to move over until he was crawling over top of her, then nudging her legs apart with his knees. "How about if I get stuffed in-right—here?"

She smiled up at him as he pressed himself against her core. "You've already stuffed this Butterball, Dr. Grissom."

He chuckled as he bent down to kiss her lips. "Now are you talking about junior, or the pizza?"

She simply giggled as his kiss moved to her neck and when he went straight to her "spot" there, she bucked so strongly in response that he started to fall off the side of the bed. She shrieked as she grabbed onto him and kept him on the edge of the mattress. "Can I blame that on the baby kicking you off of me?"

"I think we need to start correcting this child's manners—especially where "daddy " is concerned." He lay down again and put his arms around her then kissed her forehead as she yawned deeply. "In the meantime, we'll let him get his way and I'll let you get some rest."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"_How—in—the—hell—did he talk me into this_!" Sara thought as she stood in the lady's room at the French restaurant Grissom had arranged to meet her at. "_I must be a sucker for torture_!"

She looked at herself—definitely not dressed "up to code" but it was the best she had. The black slacks and heels looked okay, but there was something about the white maternity blouse that made her think she resembled a bloated cow. She tugged at the neckline but it was useless. Every time she pulled on one side, it exposed more cleavage on the other. She looked in the mirror at her face. "_What the hell's up with that? It's all red. What? You get pregnant and all your blood goes to your face_?" She looked at her hair. "_I can't get it to lay straight to save my life! Why do I have to have a bad hair day—today of all days? Just a little straight, that's all I'm asking for. I know "she's" gonna come in with her damned hair pulled back so tight her eyeballs are going to pop out!_" She thought about that a moment. "_Hee-hee_." She covered her mouth with her hand. "_Oops! Be nice, Sara! You are a nice person! Yeah, right! I'm a nice—big—fat—pregnant woman who wants some pale, stiff neck, robot to malfunction and explode! No! Stop that!_"

She turned and started out the door and went down the hall that opened to the dim dining area where Grissom was waiting in his dark suite and tie. _"God, he looked good enough to eat! Oh, right, been there, done that. Did that color of his shirt actually make his eyes look even bluer?"_ But as she walked through the doorway, wasn't it quite appropriate that she entered just as that blonde android was greeted by him. And greeted she was! "_A kiss! A KISS! Okay, maybe it was only on the cheek, but. . .he didn't kiss me like that until he was drugged! Well, okay, so he kissed much better than that when he kissed me. . .but still! And he's holding her hand. Let go of her frickin' hand! Oh, isn't that sweet, now he's holding her chair for her. She's a big girl, Griss! I think she can sit in a damned chair by herself! Okay, fine—he treats her differently than he treats me. I'm the one carrying his baby, right? I can deal with this. I can! There, he's sitting down now. I'll just walk up to them with as much decorum as possible. I mean—I can act high class, too—right? So—I just walk up to them, smile and. . .HEY! GET YOUR FRICKIN' HAND OFF HIS ARM! DON'T YOU TOUCH HIM! Okay, I can deal with this. WHY AREN'T YOU MOVING YOUR ARM AWAY FROM HER? It's okay. They're friends—right? He never touched you like "that" when "we" went out to dinner—in a crab shack! True, he was probably afraid he'd get hit by a flying crab that I'd knock across the table when I'd try to crack it. Okay, so, I'm fine. Just walk up and sit down. Almost there. What's she doing with her leg? I SEE THAT! She's reaching for his leg. The bitch is going to try to play footsie under the table! That's it! She's going down! I'm shoving her on her scrawny ass! Let her play "footsie" with him from the frickin' floor where she belongs! SCUM!_"

"You look lovely, as usual, Terri," Grissom told the blonde woman who smiled back at him.

"Hmm," Terri looked at him with an arched brow. "So, tell me—where is this student of yours who's managed to convince you to take up residence with her?"

"Oh, there she is," Grissom said as he got to his feet. "_What the hell are you getting to your feet for now? You never did when we went out to eat together before."_ "Terri, this is Sara. She's the investigator I've been telling you about since I returned to Vegas."

Terri turned to look at Sara, wearing a set smile that upon turning from Grissom left her eyes AND upon sight of Sara's expanded abdomen left her face completely. She looked at Sara from head to toe, and it was fairly obvious that she didn't think much of the younger woman's clothing as she sat there in a very proper skirt and blouse. Terri quickly composed herself and sat forward in her seat as she rested her chin in her hands and looked at her. Okay—no handshake for her.

"Sara," Terri greeted and Sara felt as if she were being inspected so she could be auctioned off to the nearest buyer. "It's wonderful to meet you."

"Hello," Sara looked at the woman and gave her her brightest smile. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Really?" She looked from Sara to Grissom then back again. "I can't imagine why. Please, sit down and join us."

Sara's smile dimmed and she started to clench as her mind raced. "_Sit down and join "us?" Listen, you high-class bimbo, YOU'RE joining US! I was already here twenty minutes ago, waiting because YOU showed up late! Don't you dare sit there on your imaginary throne and put ME on the outside, looking in! I'll shove that candle up your tight fuckin' . . ._"

"Thank you. I think I will," escaped Sara's mouth as she sat on the other side of Grissom. She looked at him. "Have you ordered?"

"No, Terri just arrived," Grissom told her then looked up at the waiter. "Could you give us a few moments, please?"

"Well, I guess I shouldn't sit here avoiding the obvious," Terri smiled stiffly at Sara again. "That would be rather ridiculous, wouldn't it?"

"I don't know." Sara toyed with her water glass before her. "I have no problem avoiding the obvious."

Her comment brought a faux chuckle to Terri. "So, when is the baby due, Sara?"

"April first."

"Really? April's Fools Day." Terri looked over at Grissom and gave him a tender smile. "Now I understand why you wanted to stay with Sara. I'm sorry I misunderstood. You're always the gentleman. I can appreciate her need to have someone around when she'd in such a delicate state. "

Sara watched as the woman leaned a little closer to Grissom.

"I don't feel I'm in a delicate state," Sara explained. "Merely pregnant."

"And quite courageous," Terri moved her hand beneath the table and went on as if she hadn't heard Sara. "I can't imagine putting myself in such a precarious position. You're very brave."

Sara quickly glanced at Grissom when she saw him jerk slightly then move his hand beneath the table as well. Soon she saw him holding Terri's hand as he moved it to the top of the table where he patted it affectionately before releasing it.

"I don't know," Sara smiled at her, "_You bitch! You put your hand on his. . .well, I don't know what or where, but it was somewhere he certainly wasn't expecting_!" then said, "you certainly seem brave enough to accomplish just about anything."

Terri, again, seemed to be indifferent to Sara's comment as she glanced at Grissom with a bit of irritation. "I like to think I choose my accomplishments, not let them choose me. I must give praise where praise is due. To bring up a child by yourself can be quite a feat."

"Terri," Grissom spoke up. "Although Sara and I haven't made formal plans, I do hope to be a constant participant in the baby's life. I'm sure we'll work out the details to everyone's satisfaction."

"Yes," Sara said as she stared at Grissom. "_What the fuck? You go from not being able to keep your pecker in your pants whenever you're around me to—working out details to everyone's satisfaction!_" Then she looked back at Terri. "You know how it is, knock 'em up, leave town, come back when the road's not so rocky anymore, then stick around so "maybe" you'll be there to find out if you had a boy or a girl."

"_The look that crossed Terri's face is priceless. What? Didn't she realize the baby's Grissom's? Always the gentleman—my ass! Or was it my language? Fuck her! If she can't take a little common speaking she can crawl right back to that little ice castle she lives in and take this jerk right with her!_"

A nervous chuckle came from "the jerk" as he reached over and placed his hand on Sara's. "She's joking. Of course I'm going to be here for the birth."

"Then the baby "is" yours," Terri said without emotion.

"Yes. We're really excited about it, aren't we, Sara?" He squeezed her hand.

"Oh," she snorted again. "Couldn't be more excited." _"Unless, of course, if you'd throw this hag in the trunk of your car, take her right back to the airport and ship her on her way. That would make me even more excited. That's right—keep staring at my stomach—I'm talking about you—hag!"_

"I see. Well, that certainly is—unexpected." She looked from Sara back to Grissom and smiled tightly. "Then I guess congratulations are in order."

"Thank you, Terri."

"Are you ready to order?" The waiter approached their table and after a few moments he left them.

The next few minutes seemed a bit awkward but Terri opened the conversation again.

"Gil? I noticed your schedule at the school has you working Monday and Wednesday mornings until around lunch time. I'm there for afternoon seminars during those days. We could meet for lunch and compare notes." She smiled at Sara. "Gil told me you work day shift at your lab. Since you're working you won't mind relinquishing him to my care for a few hours a week, will you?"

"No," she said elaborately. "Not at all." _"Especially since we haven't worked out the details to everyone's satisfaction just yet! And what details would those be, Grissom? The last details you were concerned about were during sex and how many times you could bump my headboard against my wall without putting a hole in the drywall! Go ahead—tell her about THOSE details!"_

"Oh, I've upset you." Terri said as she looked at Sara. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to step on anyone's toes. You must understand that I came here with the hopes to have Gil's assistance in establishing myself at the university. I wouldn't have imposed had I known he was in the middle of a personal crisis."

"A personal crisis?" Sara asked with raised brows as she toyed with the candlestick in front of her. She watched as the witch's hand was slowly sliding closer and closer to Grissom's and she had very vivid images of cracking the ornate object down on her well manicured fingers! "I suppose everyone needs a break from their personal crisis."

"I'm not having a personal crisis," Grissom finally said quietly and both women looked at him as the waiter brought their drinks.

"What?" Terri asked after taking a sip of her wine.

"I said, I'm not having a personal crisis. It's merely a fork in the road that I wasn't expecting."

"Of course it is," Terri assured him. "I didn't mean to sound condescending."

"You didn't," Grissom told her. "I just thought it needed to be cleared up that I don't consider this a crisis. It's a change."

Sara couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face as she beamed at Terri and asked thoughtfully. "Changes are fun—aren't they?"

Terri only looked at her, quite clearly not thinking Sara's enthusiasm was appropriate. Sara didn't know if it was intentional on the baby's part or not, but it chose that time to start kicking. She looked down at her stomach and watched as a small dint in her stomach continued moving. _"That's right, sweetie. She pisses me off to. I know, you want to come out and kick the bad lady's ass, too, don't you. Mommy loves her little baby, yes she does, yes she does!"_

"Are you—alright?" Terri asked stiffly.

"Me? I'm fine. Are "you" alight?" Sara asked as she looked at the way Terri turned in her chair toward Grissom and crossed her legs, exposing two albino legs that resembled matchsticks. "_Well, two can play at this game, sister!" _Sara turned in her chair and lifted her leg, aiming it to go over the other one but gave a sharp kick to Grissom's shin on the way.

"Ouch!" Grissom jumped and looked at her and she gave him a weak smile.

"_There—try again! That's it, lift it, lift it, lift it! Ah, shit! It won't go over! When did that happen? I can't cross my frickin' legs anymore!" _She looked at the other woman's legs that were still being showcased across the table from her. "_Fine! If I can't cross my legs, I'll just cross my ankles and sit sideways like "queenie" over there! Man! I forgot—I'm wearing slacks! He can't see my legs if I'm wearing pants! What the. . .uh-oh. . .bad idea!"_

The added weight on her abdomen and her rapid slide to the side, distributed her weight in an unexpected manner and she was rapidly tipping off her chair. Her arm came down on the tabletop with a loud crack as she caught herself, causing at least three tables to turn to see what the calamity was in such a refined restaurant.

"Sara!" Grissom was on his feet in an instant as he stopped her from landing completely on the floor. "What happened?"

"Leg cramp!" She lied with a dreadful moan as she slid her butt back on the center of the chair.

"Leg cramp?" He asked as he immediately dropped down to his knee and started feeling her calves. "Which leg?"

"Ohhh! That one! That one!" She lied again and as he started massaging the limb, she looked at the flames that were shooting from Terri's eyes. She smiled innocently at the other woman. "Leg cramps are the worst! Aren't they?"

"I wouldn't now," Terri answered indignantly.

"Are you sure this is the right leg?" Grissom asked. "I don't feel a spasm."

She turned her irritated eyes on him. "I should know if I'm having a damned charley horse, shouldn't I?"

"Well, it's these heels. They're throwing everything off kilter and pulling the muscle in ways you're not used to."

He took off the shoe and started maneuvering her foot, making her giggle when he touched its bottom. He smiled up at her and repeated the procedure twice more, making her giggle each time.

"Are you—almost finished?" Terri hissed at him. "Everyone is looking."

"How's that? Any better?" Grissom asked Sara.

"Oh, yes," she said diminutively then looked back at Terri with her faux smile. "He does that soooo well."

"I'm sure he does," Terri said coldly.

They looked up as their meals arrived and Sara looked at her eggplant parmesan with such yearning she could've jumped into the dish and swam around in it. God! She was hungry! She took her first bite and moaned with delight.

'Oh, this is so gooood!" She looked over at Terri and noticed how she was picking at her chef's salad then she looked at Grissom who was cutting his sea bass.

"Have you decided if you're going to drive to the university yourself, or would it be easier if you stop at the apartment and we'll ride together. One less parking spot to look for would be a great asset." Terri watched as Grissom took a bite of his fish then wiped his mouth.

"What?"

"I suggested we share a ride to the university so we could avoid searching for parking spots."

Sara raised a brow as she looked over at Grissom, waiting for his answer as she lifted another forkful of eggplant to her lips. At that moment the baby gave her a swift kick beneath the ribs and she jerked, dropping a complete glob of the red sauce on her white blouse.

"Dammit!"

Terri stared at her as if she couldn't believe the other woman had actually dropped food on herself then sat back in her seat and smiled tightly. "Perhaps you should try to rinse that off before it stains."

Sara looked at the other woman, then to the evidence of her clumsiness.

"_Perhaps you should try to rinse that off before it stains!"_ Sara mimicked sourly to herself as she stood in the bathroom swabbing at the spill only to have it get worse. She rolled her eyes as she looked at the reddish-orange smear now outlined with a huge water stain. Well, the night can't get any worse.

She returned to the dining area, wondering how she was going to show Grissom, yet again, how much of a wallflower she was compared to the debutante of the ball. The fact that Terri's hand was approaching Grissom's again didn't go unnoticed, nor did the way the woman was looking at him. As she approached the table, Grissom looked up at her.

"Would you like me to get your jacket?" Grissom offered quietly. "It might cover it, if you're uncomfortable with it."

"Yes." She watched Grissom get to his feet and start for the lobby of the restaurant.

"I should think you'd avoid ordering something with a tomato base while wearing white, if you know you have a "problem" such as that," Terri commented coolly.

"What problem would that be?" Sara asked.

"Spilling things. Maybe you should start wearing darker colors. That might be the solution."

"Maybe I should," Sara told her sweetly. _"Or maybe I should just shove your smug little troll face into your salad bowl. Maybe that would keep your hands busy cleaning the lettuce off those huge horse teeth of yours and you won't keep putting them on the guy who knocked me up!" _"I'll just have to toss the shirt and buy another one."

"That might get to be rather expensive for a single mother. You're going to have to start buying Pampers—not spending so much. . ." Terri gave Sara a condescending look as she eyed the nearly generic brand of clothes she was wearing. ". . .on clothing for yourself. What do a pair of slacks like those run? I'm sure I've never seen any like them where I shop."

"Twenty bucks," Sara said dryly.

"Oh." Terri gave a look of embarrassment for Sara's lack of taste in clothing

"Here," Grissom said as he held the jacket for Sara and she slipped her arms into it. "Is this better?"

"It's fine," she said through clenched teeth.

"What's wrong?" He asked as he looked from her to Terri who gave him a demur little smile before picking at her salad again then taking another drink of her wine.

"Nothing's wrong, Gil," Terri told him. "Sit down and enjoy your meal."

"Sara?" He asked quietly.

"I—I—no, there's nothing wrong," she said quietly, not wanting to embarrass herself any farther by pointing out that her clothing wasn't as expensive as Terri's. "The baby's just kicking."

"Italian, again, huh?" He smiled as he took his seat and prepared to resume his meal.

"I beg your pardon," Terri said.

"The baby likes Italian food. It starts kicking when she eats it."

"I see," Terri responded then changed the subject again. "I noticed Professor Sanders is very impressed with your reputation, Gil."

"I wouldn't call it impressed," he told her. "I think he's more impressed with the reputation of the Las Vegas lab than he is with me."

"I can't argue that the lab has its own notoriety but surely you're aware of your own distinction."

"Aren't you rather infamous yourself, Dr. Miller?" Sara asked. "I mean, I see your picture all over the internet. All I've got to do is google you and there ya are—smiling that big smile that's so distinctive."

"I rarely smile for my photographs," Terri said. "I find it undignified to stand there smiling when I'm discussing a corpse."

"Really?" Sara asked with wide eyes. "I wonder why I get the impression that you're smiling all the time. Ya know, sometimes, a person's teeth will pick up on camera and make things look out of whack. But then, I suppose you already know that."

Terri looked at Sara as if she should know what that slur was regarding but just wasn't getting it. "I suppose so—because I don't smile in my pictures!"

"Yeah—you've said." Sara smiled back at her then looked at Grissom who was looking at her as if he got the insult, even if its intended target didn't. This time when she tried to take a bite of her food, it slipped off the fork but she caught it in her hand before dumping it back on her dish.

"Oh, my," Terri took another sip of her wine and smiled at Sara through her eyes.

Grissom was about to put a fork of bass in his mouth but stopped and put it back on his plate. He looked at the food that already discolored Sara's palm then he got to his feet.

"Let me get something to clean that. I don't think your napkin's going to get it all off. I'll get something with soap." He started off in the direction of the bathroom.

"Gil!" Terri said as she watched him. "Couldn't she simply go to the bathroom and wash it off?"

"I don't mind," Grissom told her. "She should eat. She's been on her feet all day."

Terri watched him disappear then looked back at Sara who sent her another smile.

"I've been on my feet all day," Sara repeated innocently.

Terri sat forward and looked at her very closely. "You "are" aware that if you hadn't played this card, you wouldn't be sitting here with us tonight."

"Really?"

"I never was very fond of women who force their way into a relationship with someone who's already involved with someone else."

"I'm not forcing anything."

"Of course not."

"And as far as I'm aware, he wasn't involved with someone else."

"Oh, don't be so naïve! Why do you think I came here?"

"To irritate the hell out me?"

"You opened your legs so easily he only had to know you a few days and viola—you're pregnant. I do believe Gilbert's gullibility is overriding his common sense."

"Believe what you like. The fact is that Grissom's the father of my baby."

"Are you so sure? I'd like to know how you pinpointed Gil out of the others you've "danced with" at your side-street bars you like to frequent." Terri smiled again. "Oh, yes. Gilbert's told me of how you so kindly showed him around "that" side of town. He found it extremely interesting, looking into a different world than he's accustomed to."

"He told you about what we did?"

"All except the conception of this little gem. He neglected to tell me about that. But then, considering he was dating "me" and inviting "me" to come to San Francisco with him, I don't find it terribly unbelievable that he'd neglect to fill me in on this little indiscretion. At least when he's in my bed, he knows he's the only one. "

Sara got to her feet and picked up Terri's wine, then slowly and deliberately poured it over the blonde woman's head, turning her hair the strangest color of pink Sara had ever seen. She almost laughed at the thought that the woman could now join a punk rock band.

"That's because when you finally do open those frigid legs of yours, it gives him frostbite of the prick!"

Sara put down the glass and walked to the exit. She didn't want to stay there and face Grissom's disapproval so she continued out of the restaurant and took her car back to her apartment. She went numbly undressed and tossed her blouse into the trash as Terri's admission that Grissom had been frequenting her bed ran over and over in her mind. She didn't know whether to believe her or not. Grissom told her the relationship had never been consummated, but that didn't mean he didn't "want" it to be. And for all she knew, this little trip to San Francisco could be what Terri said—their plans for a little romantic getaway. She took a hot shower then went back to her room, noting she had been home for nearly an hour and there were still no signs of Grissom showing his face. She went to her bedroom where she left her door opened a crack and listened for any signs of him returning but after another two hours, there was nothing. She got up and went to the front door again where she put the chain lock across, then went back to bed, still too numb to do anything other than stare at the wall until sleep finally overtook her.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Grissom sat at the table waiting for Sara to return. He thought it would be best to introduce Sara to Terri to let her see that the other woman was no threat to her. And, he thought since he'd be seeing Terri on campus from time to time, it would do her good to meet Sara now that she was a part of his life. What he hadn't expected were the sudden overtures he was receiving from Terri. It was almost as if she had felt threatened by his return to San Francisco, where she knew he would be resuming his friendship with Sara. She increased her interest when she found out he was staying with Sara and once she saw the pregnancy, her advances had actually turned physical. When she reached under the table and placed her hand on his thigh, he almost jumped out of his chair. He didn't know what to say without embarrassing both himself and Sara.

He looked up and saw Sara come back to their table and couldn't have felt more relieved. God, but she was a sight! Her face was a little flushed, giving her that pregnancy glow that he had often heard about and her still slim figure showed off the breasts that were peeking out from the top of her blouse, making his hands itch to either reach over and fondle her or reach over and cover her so no one else could see. They were, after all, his and he wasn't about to share! He smiled at the thought. How many other women had he ever felt so possessive with? None that he could remember; not that he didn't believe in monogamy, he truly did. He had witnessed what a love between a man and woman was with his own parents, even if his father did die young. But he was never so consumed with any other woman as he was with Sara. He looked at her blush and realized she was bothered by her "stain" she had obtained a few minutes earlier. She shouldn't look like that. He found her "accidents" while eating absolutely charming, and if, as she had told him, she only did such things when he was around—he was going to take it as a compliment. He was glad he got under her skin enough to make her lose her concentration to the point of missing her mouth while attempting to put food inside it.

"Would you like me to get your jacket?" Grissom offered quietly. "It might cover it, if you're uncomfortable with it."

"Yes."

He looked at her and wanted nothing more than to reach over and give her a reassuring kiss on the lips at that moment. So what? She had a little stain on her blouse. No one was going to notice it. They'd be looking at her face and the way her eyes sparkled and the mischief in her eyes as she'd look across the table at Terri. They'd be looking at her lovely smile that enchanted anyone she flashed it at. They'd be looking at the magnificent bulge at her center that announced their impending parenthood. No, she wasn't attracting attention because of a little orange spot—it was her beauty and her feistiness that made people take a second look.

He started for the jacket she had left out front and the image of her nearly falling off her chair made him chuckle. At first it sent a rush of fright through him but once he saw she was okay and settled back into her seat he was overcome with relief. Now, the image of her sliding toward him struck him funny. Only Sara could accomplish such a feat. She amazed him.

"Here," Grissom said as he held the jacket for Sara and she slipped her arms into it, wanting to pull her against his chest and kiss her cheek with reassurance. "Is this better?"

"It's fine," she said through clenched teeth.

"What's wrong?" He looked from her to Terri who gave him a demur little smile before picking at her salad again then taking another drink of her wine.

"Nothing's wrong, Gil," Terri told him. "Sit down and enjoy your meal."

"_Nothing's wrong?"___Gill thought as he looked at the blond woman with suspicion. _"Sara looks as if you just slapped her in the face! What did you do to her?"_

"Sara?" He asked quietly.

"I—I—no, there's nothing wrong," she said quietly. "The baby's just kicking."

"Italian, again, huh?" He smiled at Sara as he took his seat, seeing how she avoided the issue. He wasn't going to cause her more uncertainty by forcing it. He prepared to resume his meal.

"I beg your pardon," Terri said.

"The baby likes Italian food. It starts kicking when she eats it." He kept his eyes on Sara but she avoided his gaze.

"I see," Terri responded then changed the subject again. "I noticed Professor Sanders is very impressed with your reputation, Gil."

"I wouldn't call it impressed," he told her. "I think he's more impressed with the reputation of the Las Vegas lab than he is with me."

"I can't argue that the lab has its own notoriety but surely you're aware of your own distinction."

"Aren't you rather infamous yourself, Dr. Miller?" Sara asked. "I mean, I see your picture all over the internet. All I've got to do is google you and there ya are—smiling that big smile that's so distinctive."

"I rarely smile for my photographs," Terri said. "I find it undignified to stand there smiling when I'm discussing a corpse."

"Really?" Sara asked with wide eyes. "I wonder why I get the impression that you're smiling all the time. Ya know, sometimes, a person's teeth will pick up on camera and make things look out of whack. But then, I suppose you already know that."

"_Good!"_ Gil thought as he took a bite of his meal. _"Serves ya right! I don't know what you did, Terri, but evidently your venom is escaping."_

Terri clearly didn't pick up on Sara's little slur. "I suppose so—because I don't smile in my pictures!"

"Yeah—you've said."

Sara smiled back at her then glanced at Grissom, almost as if looking for reassurance. This time when she tried to take a bite of her food, it slipped off the fork but she caught it in her hand before dumping it back on her dish.

"Oh, my," Terri took another sip of her wine and smiled at Sara through her eyes.

Grissom was about to put a fork of bass in his mouth but stopped and put it back on his plate. He looked at the food that already discolored Sara's palm then he got to his feet.

"Let me get something to clean that. I don't think your napkin's going to get it all off. I'll get something with soap." He started off in the direction of the bathroom. He wasn't going to let her feel bad about something he could care less about. So she's a little clumsy tonight. Okay, so she's a little clumsy a little more than just tonight. She's got every right to be. She's very pregnant with his baby and if that alters her motor dexterity, then so be it.

"Gil!" Terri said as she watched him. "Couldn't she simply go to the bathroom and wash it off?"

"I don't mind," Grissom told her. "She should eat. She's been on her feet all day."

Neither woman was at the table when he returned. He looked at how Sara's chair was pushed away from the table. Clearly she left in a rush, not taking the time to push it back in place. He looked at Terri's chair and saw that it was also pushed away from the table, but not as forcefully as Sara's. When he looked more closely he saw some wine had spilled down around the chair. The absence of it on the chair itself told him that Terri had been sitting there when it spilled. The way it landed in a puddle at the front of the chair told him it fell from a high distance but at a slow rate, almost as if it had been drizzled there. He saw the way it ran down the back of the chair, telling the story that it had been above Terri when it spilled.

"Oh boy," he said quietly then nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard Terri approaching from behind him.

"That woman's insane!" She hissed and he turned to see the pink stain that ran down over her hair and shoulders.

He looked at the way it ran down the front of her shirt and he smiled when he realized it made Sara's small spill seem miniscule.

"What happened?"

"Sara! Sara's what happened! She became angry because I reminded her why I came to San Francisco and she said horrible things and poured my wine over me and stormed out of here!"

"I'm sorry," he said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. "You've got to understand Sara's been under a tremendous amount of stress lately. Sara's not normally like this at all."

"How would you know? You only knew her a total of two weeks! One before you went back to Vegas and one since you came back here. You don't know "what" she's capable of!"

"Where is she? I need. . ."

"She left! She made her intentions perfectly clear when she humiliated me that she no longer wished to be in our company!"

She grabbed her purse and started out of the restaurant. Grissom followed and paid the bill then stepped outside, stopping upon the realization that his ride was gone. Sara drove them there in her car. He looked at Terri as she was hurrying toward her own car then stopped at the door.

"Terri, I'm sorry this happened. I'll talk to Sara and see what's wrong."

"She's" what's wrong! You're just so captivated by this idea of impending parenthood that you can't see that! We had something, Gil! You know that! And I can understand if you went to Sara to satisfy your needs—that happens with men. But the fact that you're letting it interfere with "our" lives is ridiculous! She's got to accept the inevitable!"

"Terri—anything we may have even approached together—never happened!" Grissom told her with wide eyes.

"What do you mean it never happened? Of course it happened! Look how long we've known each other, Gil! I may not be as fast as your Sara Sidle but she had no right to interfere with our plans. You and I were a couple. If not formally yet, then we certainly were about to be!"

"Terri, if anyone needs to accept anything, it's you. You need to understand that what I have with Sara is more in these measly two weeks than we had in the whole time I've known you. I'm sorry if I've misled you, Terri, but I never intentionally meant to give you the impression that we were going to create some kind of a relationship once you got here. If you recall, I didn't think you were arriving until next spring."

"So, you allowed me to make major changes in my life to accommodate your sessions here in California, all the time knowing you were going to return to her."

"I didn't encourage you to do anything of the sort, Terri. You made that decision on your own. If I encouraged anything it was the possibility of furthering your career, not our relationship. And yeah—I think if it came down to it—you're right. I knew, deep down, the whole time that I'd come back for her; even without the knowledge that we're starting a family."

"You're not starting a family, Gilbert! She's merely having a child. That doesn't mean you have to attach yourself to her hip! I'd be willing to continue seeing you as long as you realize "we" come before anything you could ever share with a mere investigator! Think of what we could accomplish together, Gilbert! Your name attached to mine! There's no place we couldn't go and be recognized for our achievements!"

Grissom looked at her then dropped his gaze. He was getting nowhere. "I need to go find Sara. She must be very upset."

"Aren't you listening to me?"

"Yes, Terri. You're saying that together you and I can go places I have no desire to go. You're saying that your affection for me is so little that you wouldn't care in the least if I kept up my relationship with another woman—as long as I'd come home to our cold bed at night. I don't have a cold bed with Sara! She's warm and comforting—when the heat of her temper doesn't escape—and even that's more inviting than the iciness you're offering."

She stared at him as if he had just poured another glass of wine over her head then got inside her car and drove away. He looked at the sky in frustration then turned and started walking. _"Well, if I go home right now, I'll be faced with the wrath of Sara, and deservedly so, but that would accomplish nothing. Instead, I'll take a little time and let her cool off. Let's see, if I walk home, it'll take a little over an hour. That should be enough time to let her calm down. Then I'll prove to her that I was a complete and utter fool for wanting to socialize with someone as emotionally devoid as the woman I exposed her to. I'll prove to her that she has more passion in her eggplant-parmesan-covered palm than Terri has in her entire distant body! I'll go home and prove to her that those magnificent breasts that she kept trying to hide beneath her stained blouse are so enticing that I damned near hurt myself with the hard-on she gave me while we were waiting to eat. I'll go home and prove to her that all she has to do is look at me with those amazingly chocolate eyes and I'm a sucker for anything she wants. Chocolate—that's a thought. I'll take her chocolate."_

When he got home he noticed it had taken him nearly two hours. There were no signs of Sara so after depositing the chocolate-covered strawberries in the refrigerator, he looked in her bedroom where he found her sleeping. He tiptoed back to his room. She was probably emotionally drained and needed sleep more than she needed him apologizing all over the place just to convince her that she shouldn't give up on her child's father as an imbecile. He took off his shoes, followed by his suit, trying very hard to remain quiet so as not to awaken her. He checked in on her again, seeing that she had turned her back to the door as she moaned in her sleep, then he returned to his room to go over some documentation he had on several species of dragonfly. Beautiful though they were, his interest wasn't enough to keep him awake as he fell into a doze as he lay spread across his bed. When he woke up he quickly looked at the clock, noting that he had been home for almost another two hours. Well, he wasn't getting any rest here. He knew where he needed to be. Funny how after only a few nights, his body craved hers lying next to his in order to relax.

He quietly entered her room, now only in his tee-shirt and boxers. He saw that there was adequate room for him to simply slide up behind her so put his knee on the mattress in an attempt to do just that. The scream and rapid succession of twisting her body around and giving him a shove that landed him flat on the floor came completely out of nowhere.

"Ow! Dammit, Sara!" Grissom said from where he sat looking up at her.

"Holy shit!" She tried to sit up but rolled like a turtle stuck on its shell until she rolled off the bed and landed on her butt in front of him. But her ire didn't stop there as she grabbed her pillow and started pummeling him with it. "What did you do? Break the damned lock? You kicked in the frickin' door and broke my lock, didn't you? "You're" paying to repair the door! I'm not having that come out of my security deposit!"

He looked at her as she stopped hitting him with the pillow. "What are you talking about? I used my key."

"You can't open the chain lock with your key!" She hit him again. "Wait—why didn't I hear you kick in the door? Hey—how'd you get in? You're like a damned cat burglar!" She hit him again, and then again.

"Would you stop that?" He grabbed the pillow and yanked it out of her hands. "I didn't break in! You didn't have the chain lock on the door when I came in."

"I did so!" She struggled to get to her feet then stormed out of the room to check on the damage he had done to her door, stopping abruptly upon finding the chain still in its slide. "It isn't broken." She turned to look at him with a raised brow as he entered the living room behind her. "How—did—you get in here?"

"I came in while you were sleeping. The chain wasn't on. When did you put it on?"

"I don't know—about. . ." She glanced at the clock. ". . .about an hour ago."

"Well, that explains it. I was home two hours ago."

"No you weren't! I was listening for you." She walked up to him until she was nose-to-nose with him. "You—are—a liar!"

"I'm not lying."

"Then why didn't I hear you?"

"You were sleeping."

"I wasn't sleeping."

"You were. You were fast asleep. So I let you sleep while I went to my room to read."

"Then why didn't you know I came out and locked the door?"

"Because "I" was sleeping."

She stared at him for a moment then dropped her eyes. "Oh."

"So, can we go back to bed now?" He put his hands on her upper arms.

"Wait, "why" did it take you so long to get home? You went home with "her" first—didn't you? You took her home and made her feel better because I poured wine on her head."

"Sara," he sighed. "You took the car."

Her hand went to cover her mouth as she looked at him. "Oh—I forgot! You walked all this way. Why didn't you call me?"

"Would you have come back to get me?"

"Of course!"

"Really?" He looked at her with a raised brow.

"Okay, fine—I probably would've told you to go ride your palomino!" She paused to look at him then chuckled at herself. "Get it? An albino horse with teeth to match!"

"Technically, palominos aren't albinos."

"Oh shut up! I can still send you back to "that" saddle again!"

"See? I wanted to give you time to cool off—and. . ." He took her by the hand and pulled her into the kitchen where he opened the refrigerator and pulled out the container of strawberries. ". . .I wanted to pick these up as a peace offering."

She paused a moment then opened the box. "You walked all the way home—plus over to Cashner's Candy Shop. No wonder it took so long to get here."

She looked inside the box then quickly up at him. He smiled as he took one and placed it against her lips. She moaned with delight as she closed her eyes and bit into it then took his hand and pulled him back to her bedroom.

"What are you doing?" He laughed at her.

"Sharing."

"But it's after midnight."

"You don't want to share?" She sat on the edge of the bed and turned until she was leaning against the headboard and brought her feet up.

He sat on the edge of the mattress and faced her then gave her another bite of the strawberry when he noticed the moisture in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"Nothing."

"Something's wrong. What is it?"

"I'm waiting for you to. . ."

"To? What?"

"You're going to chew me out for pouring wine over Terri's head." She leaned back against the headboard and closed her eyes then sighed. "Go ahead. I'm ready."

He looked at her and paused, then placed another strawberry against her lips, opening her eyes immediately. She took another bite then he put the box on the nightstand and moved until he was lying on the bed and he pulled her down with him.

"I'm not going to do anything of the kind. You're not in the habit of going out and pouring wine over women's heads. You must've been provoked."

She nodded her head and he thought he saw a tear about to spill. "I was, Gris. She was mean."

He managed to conceal his smile very well as he leaned over and gently kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry."

"And she was insulting." He kissed her ear. "And she said nasty things to hurt me." He kissed her forehead. "And she hated me." He kissed her nose. "And she hated the baby." He kissed her chin. "And she said she hated my clothes. My clothes, Gris! How can someone hate someone because of their clothes?" He kissed her jaw line. "And she said I was easy and she was "really" mean about that! I wasn't easy! Well, maybe I "was," but only with you." He kissed her neck. "And she was ugly with her big teeth and troll nose and eyes. I wish I wouldda had a bone to tie up in her frickin' hair to complete the picture!" This time he dropped his head down and started kissing "her spot" on her throat, bringing a shriek from him as she pulled away. "Hey!"

"Be nice." He rolled over and held her hands against the bed on either side of her pillow as he slid between her legs and looked at her. "You're better than that, Sara. I came home wanting to make you understand that."

"She said you were in bed with her."

His eyes widened on that one. "No. I wasn't."

"She said I slept around and that when you were in "her" bed, you knew you were the only one."

"Really? And what did you say?"

"I told her that you knew you'd certainly know you were the only one because you hadn't been able to pry her frigid legs apart and if you did—you'd have frostbite of the pecker," she told him quietly as she looked at him, then thought a moment and a smile began creeping across her features. "Frostbite of the pecker. I told her that—in public."

He couldn't help but smile back at her then lowered his head until his lips covered hers before pulling back and looking at her again. "Someone that mean deserves it. You don't have to worry about Terri anymore, my love. I more or less told her the same thing as we were leaving."

"You told her she was frigid?"

"In a manner of speaking. I think I told her she was emotionally distant, or crippled, or something such as that and she can't hold a candle next to the warmth of you."

A little sob escaped from her as she dropped her eyes again. "I thought—I thought you'd be horrified at what I did. I thought you'd go running back to Terri's defense."

"Shh. I'm surprised—and a bit shocked—but I'm more horrified at myself for forcing you to go through with meeting Terri. I knew she could be a bit distant. . .but I thought she'd like you like everyone else. The fact that she can't see what's inside of you only shows me how blind she is."

"But she's blind because she's in love with you, Gris."

"No. If she's blind—it's blind ambition. She isn't in love with me. She told me tonight that she and I would go far professionally if we tied our personal lives together, but I could still go on seeing you on the side, if I desired."

"Do you desire?" She asked with another hiccough.

"I desire seeing you out front—not on the side. I don't desire and wouldn't desire anyone who can say they have so little emotion toward another person as to share them." He released her hands only to put his hands on either side of her face as he kissed her. "I want you, Sara."

"I want you, too," she sighed against him as she wrapped her legs around his. "And I won't share."


End file.
